Fireworks
by Boldly Going Somewhere
Summary: Everyone knows the story of Goblet of Fire, but we do not know the story of Fred and Hermione. Weasley and Granger decide to better their friendship this year, but they're not doing a good job of being just friends, are they? The Prankster and the Bookworm - what can go wrong? (Fred x Hermione; set in the year of Goblet of Fire)
1. The World Cup

_**Before You Read:** This story resides in the Goblet of Fire. It is slightly AU, but it won't affect the main plot of Harry and the Triwizard Tournament. However, some minor parts in the book may be summarized or skipped in general._

_**Update 5/24/14:** Oh god, my writing style has changed quite a bit since this first chapter. Please excuse any weird style-transitions from solely this chapter to the 2nd - I'm learning more and more each time I update on how to create better stories._

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><p>There was a loud, formal knock at the door of the Burrow. The usual banter thickening the air died down almost instantly. Harry and Ron looked at each other in delight, their eyes glittering.<p>

"That must be Hermione." Ron proclaimed and raced toward the door with Harry at his heels.

Mrs. Weasley, however, got to the door before them. She gripped the knob of the door and pulled it open, beaming down at the brown-haired girl standing on the doorstep.

"Oh, it's so good to see you, Hermione! Come in, come in! George will take your bags upstairs!" She kindly grabbed the bag next to Hermione's feet, crossed the room, and half-handed, half-threw the bag to a tall, red-haired boy.

Mrs. Weasley then leaned in and whispered irritably to him, "Be on your best behavior. And don't you _dare_ think of stuffing a dungbomb in this poor girl's bag!"

"Don't you worry, Mum." He said with an anxious grin on his face, "And besides, my name is Fred!"

The twins broke into laughter, causing Mrs. Weasley to roll her eyes. It seemed as if she had enough of the whole mix-up joke by now.

"Just…bring her things up!" She barked.

"Yes, Mum." Fred sighed and began walking up the creaking stairs to the room Hermione was going to share with Ginny.

"Oh no, oh no, you're not going to be alone with my bag." Hermione cried, marching up the stairs toward Fred.

"And why not?" Fred asked, turning around with an intrigued look.

Hermione hesitated, thinking out her words carefully. "Th-There are special things in there."

_"Very_ detailed description there." Fred muttered, rolling his eyes. He stormed up the staircase and disappeared into Ginny's room.

Hermione groaned, and she turned to Harry and Ron.

"I'll be back in a bit." She then quickly followed Fred into the room. She slammed the door behind her, her eyes locked on the Weasley twin. "Just put my bag-"

Fred was already sifting through her stuff, obviously searching for anything he could get a laugh at. He quickly stopped in his tracks, his eyes brightening.

"Oh, what is this?" Fred asked, and he pulled out a blue dress embroidered with lace. It was rather fancy for Hermione. "What's the occasion?"

Hermione became pink. She grabbed ahold of the dress and struggled to pull it toward her, but Fred's grip was too strong.

"I bought my Hogwarts supplies early. It said that we had to bring formal attire this year." She explained, pulling on her bushy brown hair slightly.

"Hm." Fred murmured in slight interest. He laid the dress on him, and his voice became high and squeaky as he tried his best to imitate Hermione, "My name is Hermione Granger, and I hope someone finally asks me out if I wear this. Don't I look so pretty and gorgeous? Well, off to the library to learn how to make a love potion!"

Hermione let out a somewhat exasperated growl and punched the Weasley square on his forearm. Fred howled in amusement, pretending (And very poorly at that) that the blow was incredibly painful. He rubbed his arm and toppled over onto the bed, making exceptionally fake crying noises.

"Mum! Hermione hurt me!" Fred shouted, awkwardly rolling over the bed sheets.

"Quiet! And stop making a fool of yourself!" Hermione squeaked. She donned an amused grin as she buried her face in her hands.

Fred was unusually friendly now – much friendly than any other time Hermione had talked to him. She was used to Fred being a merciless prankster with George at his side, but now that she was seeing Fred without his twin, he seemed generally more outgoing than secretive; based on the last three years she had known the twins. Now approaching her fourth year at Hogwarts, she then wondered if Fred and George would still pull off even more pranks than before.

"We should go back downstairs." Fred stated in a somewhat formal tone. He hopped off the bed and opened the door. He bowed, "Ladies first."

Hermione went a bit pink once again. She was honestly never used to being treated like a lady; only a - somewhat - ordinary witch that was always brushed aside by everyone except her close friends.

She stepped out onto the staircase, quickly making her way back down into the living room with Fred right behind her.

Harry and Ron were talking to each other near the bottom of the stairs. They both looked up, their impatience reflected from their eyes.

"Took you long enough." Ron groaned, crossing his arms.

"I have some news to tell you." Harry announced to his two friends with a worried look.

Ron nodded, "Well let's go to my room before we get ready for dinner."

The three raced back up the stairs, a rather obnoxious creak emanating after each step on the old wooden boards.

"You best hurry! Mum'll have your head if you don't help prepare dinner!" Fred shouted to his younger brother Ron.

The last thing Hermione heard of him behind her was his soft chuckle she was used to hearing when the twins were in the middle of a prank.

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><p>Soon enough, it was time for dinner. The sky was turning a tint of orange and yellow, guiding the moon's way into the sky. A nice wooden table was set on a grassy hill secluded from the small town nearby. Various dishes were prepared, ready for a feasting of a lifetime. Wooden chairs circled the large table with plates and utensils perfectly set for the family.<p>

"Alright, who's hungry?" Mrs. Weasley asked merrily. Her smile was bright with joy. "Ok, ok, Harry, you can sit next to Ron. Hermione, you can sit next to Harry. Ginny, next to Fred. Percy, next to your father." She was circling the table, continuing to direct everyone to their seats.

Hermione did as she was told and sat next to Harry. She wondered what was going on in his head. Everything Harry told them about an hour ago was still fresh in her mind. She shared his worry of Sirius's whereabouts and what happened to Harry's owl, Hedwig. Sirius couldn't have gotten caught, had he? Hermione assumed that he was a very powerful wizard, and she found it hard to believe that he could get caught so quickly.

"Alright, dig in, everyone!" Mrs. Weasley proudly announced.

Everyone immediately began pouring food onto their plates and bursting into chatter.

Percy and Mrs. Weasley were talking about the Ministry of Magic and some strange problem about cauldrons. To everyone's surprise – most likely if she physically showed it – Hermione thought the matter was rather boring.

Harry and Ron were deeply conversing about the Quidditch World Cup – the reason Hermione and Harry had come to the Burrow for the rest of the summer. She was listening intently until they began on the topic about Viktor Krum, the young Bulgarian Seeker. Hermione rolled her eyes and focused back on the plate in front of her.

_What's so special about Viktor Krum?_ Hermione thought,_ I Have to say that he looks alright, but people only like him because he's famous! Well…_

Tomorrow, Mr. Weasley would be taking the children to see the Quidditch World Cup. Hermione knew Harry and Ron had been anxiously waiting for it all summer. She was happy to be spending summer with her wonderful friends for a change instead of muggles. Almost an entire year surrounded by magic!

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><p>Early in the morning, Mrs. Weasley woke everyone up and got them ready for the World Cup. She cooked them breakfast and retrieved their Hogwarts supply letters so she could buy their things while they were gone. With full stomachs, Mr. Weasley and the children used a portkey to travel to the campground wizards going to the cup were designated to.<p>

Hermione stayed close to her group for the entire time at the campground. She honestly did not feel like socializing with other wizards she didn't know that much about, despite missing the magical world dearly. She wanted to have the usual talks her, Harry, and Ron always had back at Hogwarts, but everyone – even Ginny – seemed to be pouring all their attention on Quidditch. (Hermione wasn't surprised) Everyone except Fred, strangely enough; he seemed much more distant from George today. Hermione had heard from Ron that the twins got in trouble for tricking Harry's cousin, Dudley, into eating bewitched toffee, causing his tongue to grow exceptionally huge, and Fred and George were forced to throw away all the candy by their mother.

_Perhaps they got into a fight?_ Hermione thought.

She got up from the chair she was sitting in and stalked over to Fred.

"Are you okay?" She asked thoughtfully.

Fred seemed to have become much more cheerful once she spoke.

"Of course. Hey, I heard from a few Ministry wizards around here that there'll be a special ball at Hogwarts this year. I guess that's why formal attire is on our supply lists." Fred's voice then became very quiet, and he leaned in toward Hermione, "Don't tell anyone I told you. No student is supposed to know. And Charlie knows something _bigger_ than the ball going on at Hogwarts. If the Ministry has hidden this dance_ this_ well until now, imagine the thing _Charlie _knows!"

"A…a ball?" Hermione repeated, as if ignoring the topic of Charlie and the secret event the dragon-taming Weasley held. "Are you going to wear something nice for a change?"

Fred quickly snapped his finger. "Even better! I'll steal some sweater vests and go as Percy!"

Hermione chuckled. She was starting to like Fred a bit more. He had only been known as that one person who always got into trouble during class. Hermione never liked people like that until now. Fred changed somehow, but she couldn't put her tongue on what it was.

Fred and Hermione spent much of their time at the campground together. They thought they might as well stick together since Ron and Harry had each and other and George was somewhat avoiding Fred. They explored the camp, visiting a few familiar faces- like Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas of Gryffindor -in the process. They also bought from the stands and trolleys around the place that were mostly Quidditch-themed. Fred learned that Hermione also favored the Irish team and promptly gave her a four-leaf clover pin so she could show off her team spirit.

"I'm really not that into all these 'spirit' things, Fred." Hermione hesitantly mumbled. The pin was proudly shouting the names of the Irish Quidditch players, _Troy! Moran! Lynch!_

"Nonsense! And besides, you look rather good with it on." Fred retorted, winking at her.

"I-I do?" Hermione mumbled once again, taken aback.

"Of course!" Fred replied. _Girls always love hearing that kind of stuff, _he thought with a smile.

Two familiar people to Fred caught his eye. He waved his arm high and began beckoning to them, "Lee! Alicia!"

Hermione barely knew who they were. All she knew about them was that they were in Gryffindor; she also loosely recognized Lee Jordan as the Hogwarts Quidditch commentator and the Twins' best friend.

"What's going on, Fred?" Lee asked, but then looked anxiously around. "Where's George?"

"Oh, well he's around here somewhere. I think he's with Ginny or something." Fred bouncily answered, putting his hands in his jean pockets.

Lee and Alicia looked at each other ghastly. They must have felt concerned to see Fred without George as much as Hermione did.

Alicia turned her head to look at the brown-haired girl next to him. "You finally got a girlfriend, I see! Kinda…young, but she seems good for you!"

Hermione's face reddened in embarrassment. She honestly had no idea if that was a compliment or an insult. She nervously looked up at Fred, who was beginning to turn the color of his hair.

"_Not_ a girlfriend! Watch what you say! I still have _loads_ of dungbombs left over from last year." Fred countered, crossing his arms with a marginally amused smile, "And I s'pose that Lee is _your_ boyfriend?"

"Ew, _no!"_ Alicia hissed bitterly.

"E-Excuse me?" Lee growled, angrily staring at Alicia, "And what's wrong with _me?"_

"Nothing!" Alicia sighed apologetically, "It's just that…you're you."

Lee scoffed, "Well I'm sorry for being myself for all these years." He stomped off to a normal-looking tent and disappeared into the latter.

Alicia let out an annoyed sigh. "Boys," She said mostly toward Hermione, "I'll go talk to him." She then scurried off into the tent Lee disappeared into.

"Ah, sixth years." Fred dreamily said, "Same age as me and George, but they can get a tad annoying. Let's go, I think there are more stands over there."

The red-haired boy walked off to the direction of more stands carrying loads of Quidditch trinkets and food. Like Ron would have done, Fred was rushing more toward the food stands than the souvenirs.

"I'll have a bag of Every Flavor Beans!" Fred exclaimed as Hermione neared the stand. He put down in front of the merchant a few sickles, obviously knowing the prices of the beans already.

The merchant counted the money, and then tossed Fred the bag of Every Flavor Beans merrily.

"Have a nice day!" The merchant cried, "Let's hope Bulgaria will win!"

Fred was about to walk off until he heard those words. His eyes narrowed, swiftly turning back around to glower at the man.

"I'm sorry, but Ireland is _clearly_ going to win!" He hissed, pointing to the four-leaf clover pinned to his shirt.

The merchant just let out an exhausted chuckle, and he returned to counting the earnings he got for the day.

Fred opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione didn't want to start a scene, especially since she had noticed that a few people sporting Bulgaria pins and hats were menacingly staring at Fred. She took him by the arm and wandered off to a large tree stump near the beginning of the forest. Fred plopped down onto it and opened the bag with sincere delight.

"Now these things are simple tricks! George and I used to give everyone these things during our first year! Worked great until some _brother_ found out when we stuffed some into Penelope Clearwater's bag. He got Professor McGonagall to give us detention. I still remember it like it was yesterday! Filch had us shining trophies for hours!" Fred laughed; he poured a few beans into the palm of his hand. He seized a tan one and looked at Hermione mischievously.

"Why don't you have a go first?" He proposed with a questionable smile spread across his face.

Hermione's eyes widened, appalled by the very thought. She found it hard to muster enough courage to agree to it.

"N-No thanks." She murmured, shaking her head scarcely.

"Come on! Okay, we can eat one together." Fred sighed and picked up a golden-brown bean from his hand.

"Oh, alright." Hermione whispered, holding her bean close to her mouth. Fred did the same, but with more enthusiasm to know what flavor it truly was.

"Ready?" He began counting down, "Three, two, one…"

Simultaneously, the two gulped down their Every Flavor Bean, letting the random taste settle on their tongues. Hermione almost immediately coughed out the bean, her voice hoarse.

"P-Pencil shavings?!" Hermione gasped in disbelief. She was turning scarlet as her need for water to wash down the upsetting treat grew great.

"Ooh…ear wax." Fred cried out, wincing a bit at the word. However, he stood like a rock, unlike Hermione. "I'll never forget that taste. That was the flavor of the first bean I ever tasted, you know."

The two quickly went through the entire bag. Some were miraculously delicious, like buttered popcorn or lemonade, but many perniciously startled them (Mostly Hermione) with the flavors like peppercorn or dog food. Fred had to admit in his mind that he was proud of Hermione, for she ate more beans than him in the end and never asked for water or anything else to wash out the disgusting flavors, although her facial expressions made her misery clearly known.

"It's getting late. Mr. Weasley will probably be missing us by now." Hermione stated as she looked up at the sky. The sun was hiding in the thick, green trees surrounding the clearing. The sky was pink and orange, decorating the air like ribbons. The hue of orange blanketed the campground, sending the majority of the wizards outside to return to their tents or start supper. Small birds were still flying about, however; they seemed oblivious to the coming of the reminiscent twilight. Their birdsong was music to Fred and Hermione's ears as they neared their own tent. The could hear the voices of Ron and George inside. Hermione crawled into the tent, which was much bigger in the inside than on the outside. She was welcomed to Ron's babbling about Viktor Krum and the smoky scent of dinner cooking. Mr. Weasley made his way across the room carrying a small stack of paper plates.

"No magic?" Hermione asked, repeating the words Mr. Weasley had told everyone once they arrived at the campground.

"Absolutely not!" He replied and passed Fred as he made his way outside to tend to his cooking.

"Fred, c'mere a sec!" George called out from across the room in slight hesitation.

The Weasley twin stepped toward George, and they hunched over secretively over a piece of parchment. Whatever they were working on, it got them back on equal terms once again. Hermione joined Harry near the fireplace, and she settled herself beside Ron. She watched in slight interest Ron's new Krum action figure march around.

"Pass me a Chocolate Frog, would you, Harry?" She politely said to him.

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><p>The next day went as planned. Sort of. Mr. Weasley's party enjoyed the Quidditch World Cup very much; Ireland won to their satisfaction. All was normal until later that night; Death Eaters attacked the campground, torturing a family of Muggles in the process. The Dark Mark was conjured in front of Harry's eyes, prompting the Ministry of Magic to do some detective work as to who conjured the feared sign. Winky, Mr. Crouch's house-elf, was accused of replicating such a formidable spell, but was later presumed innocent. Hermione, however, watched the poor house-elf plead for her master's forgiveness as Mr. Crouch promised her that he was going to free her from his ownership.<p>

Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys returned to the Burrow the next morning, welcomed by a worried Mrs. Weasley.

"You could've died!" She cried, hugging the twins very tightly, "And the last thing I did was yell at you for not getting enough O.W.L.s!"

Only Mr. Weasley and Percy seemed to still severely worry about the Death Eaters. The children chose to enjoy the last hours of summer they had before they returned to Hogwarts.

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><p><em><strong>Author Note:<strong> I've been rather hesitant to post anything up on this website for awhile because of thieves. But they'll always be out there no matter what, so I got myself to post this story. I love this pairing right now, and I'm open to any constructive criticism about anything, be it a character being OOC or any grammar mistakes. Favorites, reviews, and follows are highly appreciated!_


	2. Welcome Back

_**Author's Note**: Sorry for the long wait for an update! I got really busy, but, hopefully, I'll be able to update this story a little more frequently!_

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><p>Tomorrow came like a flash. Today was the day all students returned to Hogwarts; as usual, Mrs. Weasley woke everyone up for breakfast. She, however, seemed more urgent to wake the twins up than anyone else.<p>

"But Mum…" George groggily groaned, stuffing his face into his pillow.

"You all have to get ready!" Mrs. Weasley said shaking Harry and Ron awake. "You don't want to be late for you_ first_ day back, do you? Come _on,_ Fred!" She rushed to the edge of Fred's bed and ripped his pillow away from him. "I'm going to wake up the girls. I expect you all to be ready for breakfast by the time I come back."

Mrs. Weasley's eyes narrowed at Fred and George, speaking more to them than Harry or Ron. She blatantly shut the door behind her, and the sound of creaking stairs eventually died down.

"Funny, it doesn't feel like it's time to go to Hogwarts." Ron yawned, rubbing his eyes.

"Does it ever?" Fred said tiredly. He stood up from his bed and crouched down to search for any clothes that looked as if a muggle would wear.

"I can't wait for Quidditch to start back up." Harry happily said, picking out the clothes he was going to wear to Platform 9 and ¾.

"You'll get to see Angelina again." George sneered to his twin, lightly bumping him in the ribs. Fred being a beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, no one wasn't truly surprised to hear that Fred fancied Angelina.

"Shut up, George!" Fred growled, his cheeks turning scarlet.

"I wonder what's going on with Mad-Eye Moody right now. He's been awfully popular in the Daily Prophet recently." said Ron.

"He's probably attacking a cat, thinking it's an escapee from Azkaban." George laughed, pulling on his jeans.

"Oh, god! Everything about him screams lunatic! His clothes, the way he walks. Even his eyes! Or should I say _'eye'?" _Fred added, buttoning his collar.

Fred's long, ginger hair fell in front of his eyes like a scarlet curtain. He blew his hair out of sight, though he did not do a great job, for it just fell back into place.

_I need a haircut,_ Fred thought, followed by an annoyed sigh.

After dressing up, the boys raced down the stairs, Harry and Ron in the front of the pack. Once they landed on the first floor, the two raced to Hermione, who was sitting next to Ginny at the kitchen table. Mrs. Weasley began pouring scrambled eggs into six plates, each for the hungry children. She threw the now-empty pan into the sink, where magical sponges began to swiftly scrub the pan.

"Eat up!" Mrs. Weasley said. "The…the – uh – _taxi _will be here in a few minutes! Make sure your trunks are ready!" She was running to and fro across the kitchen, making sure all of the bewitched tools were doing their jobs properly.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were whispering to each other in careful tones. Whatever they were talking about must have been important; Fred only caught a few words from Harry.

"Hedwig sent…letter…Snuffles…"

"Fred," George whispered to him, "remember the Canary Creams, okay?"

"I'll bet it'll be finished soon. Maybe near Christmas. And you know what's near Christmas? A feast with lots of desserts!" Fred murmured with enthusiasm.

George's eyes lit up in mischief. They both menacingly chuckled, causing Mrs. Weasley to glower suspiciously at them.

"Anything you have to tell me, boys?" Mrs. Weasley asked irritably, placing a hand on the cloth-covered table to lean in closer to the twins.

"Nothing, Mum." Fred and George answered together, though their smiles said otherwise.

"I hope so. I do not want another letter from Hogwarts about your pranks!" Mrs. Weasley barked, storming off to get everyone's suitcases from their rooms.

The children were soon outside where the hailed muggle taxi awaited them. They filled the trunk to the brim with their suitcases and cages stuffed with their pets. The muggle driver was having a difficult time carrying everyone's things into the car, especially Crookshanks, Hermione's cat, whom seemed to not like muggles as much as his owner.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione wailed, "He's not a scratch tower!" The orange cat was clawing desperately up the muggle's leg, leaving countless tender scratches on the poor man.

"C'mere, Crookshanks." Fred called to the cat. He crouched down, holding his hand out to him. Crookshanks slowly bounded down the man's leg and padded toward Fred much gracefully than a few moments before when he subdued the taxi driver into fear. He curled up right next to Fred, purring softly, and Fred carefully picked him up whilst petting its soft pelt.

"Mug – er, taxi drivers aren't toys, Crookshanks." Fred explained to the cat as if it could understand.

The muggle walked off to open the taxi door, muttering awful words to himself, "I don't get paid enough to deal with this nonsense…"

Hermione walked up to Fred, her arms open so she could carry Crookshanks. "Sorry about that." She said apologetically.

Fred leaned in and lowered his voice. "Tell that to that muggle." He chuckled.

Hermione weakly laughed, still full of embarrassment.

Once things calmed down, everyone crammed themselves into the taxi. It was to everyone's surprise that the entirety of the group was able to fit into such a small compartment. There were a lot of "move over"s and "stop hitting me"s being tossed back and forth during the entire trip to King's Cross. Mrs. Weasley did nothing to hush the children or engender more space using a spell; what could she do with a muggle watching them in annoyance?

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><p>Everyone was relieved to finally get to King's Cross. They all hopped out, taking long breaths of fresh air. The taxi driver forced himself to pull everyone's suitcases out of the trunk, weary of Pigwidgeon, the owl Ron was bringing to Hogwarts.<p>

Once the taxi driver escaped from the Weasleys, Fred retrieved his suitcase and hugged his mother good-bye after everyone made their way into the barrier of Platform 9 and ¾.

"See you soon, Mum." Fred and George said simultaneously to Mrs. Weasley.

"No letters about your mishaps this year, got it?" She ordered, crossing her arms as they pulled away.

"We can't promise that." Fred and George both wore mischievous smiles that signaled the beginning of their troublemaking. Mrs. Weasley couldn't help but smile.

"Alright," She sighed, patting them on the backs, "Have a wonderful year! Send letters back home!"

The red-haired children turned back to her and said in unison, "Yes, Mum."

"Goodbye, Harry! Hermione! Stay safe!" Mrs. Weasley frantically waved goodbye to them as they walked closer to the Hogwarts Express.

Fred looked up at the train. Grey, frothy smoke billowed from it as its whistle echoed across the entire platform. Crowds of parents guiding their children aboard stood like a wall against the side of the train. Fred and George acted as shields to the door of the train for Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. After a bit of pushing against the crowd, everyone made it safely aboard.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry were already making their way to their own compartment as usual, until Crookshanks leapt out of Hermione's hands and pawed urgently at Fred's leg.

"Crookshanks, Fred's busy! Come to_ our_ compartment!" pleaded Hermione. She crouched down to pick up her cat, but he immediately hid behind Fred, swooshing its tail left and right in defiance.

Fred leaned over and picked up Crookshanks. "Don't worry, Hermione! George and I'll take care of him for the trip. We'll make sure he doesn't jump out the window or anything." Fred rose the cat up and gazed into its bright eyes. "Right, lovely?"

It mewed back, making its admiration for the Weasley twin known.

Hermione finally said, "Fine…Bring him back by dinner, though." She gave Fred a stern, rather disapproving look.

"Of course." He nodded his head and walked away, the opposite direction in which Hermione was heading; he patted Crookshanks on the back when his tail brushed against his arm.

Fred followed George to their usual compartment, where – once they slid the translucent door open – Lee Jordan was occupying a space on the seats.

Lee asked in confusion, "What's with the cat?"

"Holding him for a friend." Fred simply said, as if it were absolutely normal for a person to go wandering around with someone else's cat on a train.

George scoffed, plopping down on a seat, "A _friend?_ Fred, ever since I brought up Angelina you've been ogling at Hermione! What's up?"

"Hermione _Granger?" _Lee breathed, taken aback. "Isn't she that fourth-year that spends _way_ too much time in the library?"

"Well – yeah." Fred answered blandly. Whether he liked it or not, he couldn't deem what Lee said as false. Everyone in Gryffindor knew that Hermione was that one scholar who would rather complete a five-page essay on cauldron bottoms with Percy than dab on makeup and straighten her hair.

_But she never really needed makeup, anyway,_ Fred thought.

Suddenly, the compartment door slid open, revealing a blonde young girl behind it. Her unblinking eyes pierced the three boys, keeping them in silence. She carefully stepped inside the compartment, and said with a curious voice, "Have you seen Ginny?" She then gave them an unexpected curtsey.

Fred and George vaguely recognized her as Luna Lovegood, a third-year Ravenclaw and an…acquaintance of Ginny. Ginny had conversed about Luna every now and then at the Burrow, describing her as if she were a new patient at a mental institute.

George was the first to speak bravely. "I think she's off with the other third-year Gryffindors."

"Oh." murmured Luna. She bounced back out of the compartment, still full of her unusual curiosity.

Hey, this could be the perfect time to test out those Canary Creams, Fred thought. George must have thought the same thing, because the two met each other's scandalous eyes.

"Why don't you stay for a bit?" asked Fred, reaching out a welcoming hand.

"I s'pose." Luna sighed; she gracefully sat down next to Lee, who was staring at her with frightened eyes.

"Care for a snack?" George asked, rummaging through his bag.

"Sure!" Luna showed a bright yet small grin. "I hope it's sweet. I tried this colorful muggle candy once because I heard it was actually chocolate, but it was actually sour."

"Oh, well it _is_ sweet." the twins said with amused smiles. They could barely hold in their content chuckles.

George held out a tiny pastry ball half the size of his palm. It was golden-brown with what seemed to be pale custard in the middle. Lee's eyes widened in fear and amazement as Luna politely plucked the treat out of George's hand. She made a small bit into the pastry, taking time to grasp the taste of it.

"Quite good." She said in the middle of chewing. "Could use some more sugar, though." She finished it off swiftly and backed into the hallway, almost bumping into the trolley stationed across to the other door. She waved awkwardly goodbye, and slid the door closed.

Fred and George stood dumbfounded at the now-closed door. They were obviously expecting their treat to work, but Luna stayed perfectly normal!

"Sh-She was supposed to be twittering like a bird by now!" Fred squeaked, jumping up from his seat as if it were on fire. "Why didn't it work?"

"Here, let me try one." said Lee.

George handed him a pastry in defeat. He and Fred were already too depressed to care what Lee did. Lee swallowed the entire pastry in a single bite, and he first acted as if everything were normal. The boy opened his mouth to give the twins' his review of the food, but all that came out were dying bird sounds.

"Close enough!" Fred cackled as he and George burst into laughter. "Don't worry, it'll wear off soon…I hope."

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><p>The Hogwarts Express found its way back to the majestic castle; everyone changed into their school robes and bounded off the train, anxious to get to the Homecoming feast traditionally served each year. The sky was black with starts dotted here and there; the moon shown bright against the silhouette of the castle; several windows glowed orange in the darkness.<p>

Fred brought Crookshanks to the Great Hall. After skimming through his textbooks to find the correct spell, he managed to transfigure that cat conveniently into a glass. (Though, he was never really good at Transfiguration. The goblet still possessed a waving orange tail)

"_Feraverto."_ Fred said, pointing his want at Crookshanks.

Carrying the goblet carefully, he, George, and Lee took their seats at the packed Gryffindor table. Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, and Alicia Spinnet joined them soon after. Conversation immediately turned to what everyone had done the past summer, including, for some people, the Quidditch World Cup.

"I was able to visit Germany this year." Alicia explained happily.

Lee muttered grouchily, "Please shut up for once."

"Come on, Lee!" groaned Alicia. "It's the first day back! You can't be mad at me still!"

Lee said nothing else; he focused more on his thumbs than the rest of everyone's conversations.

"Did you hear about the Dark Mark at the World Cup?" Katie asked, lowering her voice to the point where Fred had to lean in incredibly far to understand what she was saying.

"Of Course! It's all over the Daily Prophet." George cried, his voice slightly booming over the table; a few Ravenclaws nearby turned around in curiosity, but returned to their own table soon after.

Fred said in a hushed tone, "Dad's been running around trying to clean up the mess that Rita Skeeter has been putting down."

"Can you blame her? You-Know-Who hasn't been around for years, and all of a sudden _his_ mark appears? Kinda suspicious if you ask me." Angelina quickly explained.

Fred was turning scarlet. He hated Rita Skeeter as much as his father did. But before he could yell at Angelina, Dumbledore stood up from his throne-like chair, quieting everyone in the Great Hall.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" He announced. "Now, shall we get along with the sorting of our newly beloved students?"

Professor Dumbledore sat back down as Professor McGonagall entered the room with a patched-up and battered hat, which was recognizably the Sorting Hat. She placed the hat on a wooden stool and unrolled a large piece of parchment.

"When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool." McGonagall explained. "When the hat announces your house, you will go and sit at the appropriate table."

"Can we get on with it?" Fred moaned tiredly.

* * *

><p>It took a few minutes for the Sorting Hat to filter the first-years into their houses, all to the twins' boredom. Dumbledore took to the eagle-crested podium once again; he wore a friendly grin.<p>

"Now, I have two words to say to you." He told the students. "Tuck in."

Almost in an instant, the empty plates and bowls on the tables were piled high with food. The twins dove straight into their meal, dumping mounds of food on their plates like starving wolves.

"I f'rgot how goo' Ho'warts food tashte." George pleasantly remarked, his mouth already full of steak.

Fred looked down the table to see Hermione's plate still shining like the stars above. He wondered why she hadn't begun eating yet. He slid away from his group of sixth-years as Alicia began talking about her visit to Germany, whilst George and Lee were pretending to spread gossip about her to the first-year Gryffindors. Fred made his way to Hermione; he tapped the brown-haired girl on the shoulder to get her attention.

"Not hungry?" He curiously asked. Harry and Ron were shaking their heads desperately and waving their arms at Fred, trying the best they could to stop him from talking.

"Not when this meal was the product of slave labor!" Hermione hissed, her arms crossed in defiance.

Fred backed away, leaving the three to their conversation. The last thing he heard of them was Hermione yelling about house elves.

Once dinner and dessert had been finished off, Professor Dumbledore stood up behind the podium once again.

"Now," He started, "before we all go to our common rooms for the night, I would like to share some important news to you al. A very important even will be held at Hogwarts this year."

* * *

><p>"The Triwizard Tournament!" Lee cried as he, Fred, and George climbed the staircase leading to the painting of the Fat Lady.<p>

Fred groaned, "We'll be-"

"-seventeen in spring!" George continued. "The age limit is-"

"-unfair! Balderdash!"

The painting of the Fat Lady swung open, and the three climbed into the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room. Only a few students were still loitering around, including Hermione, Harry, and Ron. The boys climbed the spiral staircase to their dormitory, where they toppled onto their beds in relief.

"I'm so full…" Lee breathed.

"I'm going to stay here for a bit." Fred overheard Hermione say from the common room. "You too, get some sleep."

Footsteps could be heard pounding up the tower and Hermione plopping down upon a chair.

Fred sat up and began rummaging through his bag. He secretively took out a tiny box of cookies George helped him steal from the Burrow.

_Hopefully Mum hasn't found out I stole this yet,_ Fred cowardly thought.

He got up from his bed with the box and walked out the doorway as he told his roommates, "I'll be back in a bit."

Fred raced down the staircase and jumped over the last stair. He spotted Hermione relaxed on a large, red lounge chair reading a rather thick book. Her eyes were dull and glued to the pages in front of her.

Fred hopped over to Hermione's side, holding his hands behind his back. "What's up, darling?" He asked with a bubbly expression.

Hermione let out a disgruntled sigh; she seemed to not be in the mood for company.

"Nothing."

Fred sat down on the arm of the lounge chair, holding out the box willingly to her. He watched as her eyes lit up in interest, taking in the faint smell of cocoa from the box.

"What's this for?" asked Hermione.

"You ought to be quite hungry. You didn't eat anything downstairs, did you?" said Fred.

"No…" Hermione hesitantly grumbled, burying her face in her book.

"Don't go starving yourself! Here, take it!" Fred told her and moved the box closer to her face.

Hermione shyly grabbed the box and pulled off the lid to reveal homemade chocolate-chip cookies inside. Before she could open her mouth to speak or even eat, Fred swooped a hand between her face and the cookies.

"Ep, ep, ep! Not so fast! Give me a bit. Scoot over, will you?" He deposited himself beside her, almost knocking her out of the chair. Fred picked up a cookie and smiled down at her.

"You're just like Ron, always eating." Hermione murmured.

"Oh, right! Forgot about this for a second." From Fred's robes pocket, he pulled out a glass goblet with a waving orange tail attached to it.

Hermione's eyes widened, baffled by what she saw. _"I-Is that Crookshanks?!"_ She gasped, swiping the goblet out of Fred's hand.

"It was the only way of getting Crookshanks into the Great Hall. You don't see me carrying a bright orange cat everywhere I go, do you?" explained Fred quickly.

"I suppose not…" Hermione mumbled, lowering the goblet.

Thank god she's not mad, Fred thought, and threw an arm around her, squeezing her tightly. With that unexpected force, the glass goblet slipped from Hermione's hands, and it sliced through the air like a blade. She whipped out her wand and, before the goblet could shatter on the ground, waved her wand sharply, transforming the cup back into Crookshanks. The cat landed onto his paws, and immediately bounced up the chair and onto Fred's lap, curling up into a large, warm ball of fluff.

"Well," Hermione whispered, staring at her pet, "I think you should head back to bed."

Fred laughed, "Leave while a cat's on my lap? No thanks!" He then added, "I'll probably have to spend the night here."

"Well, _I'm_ not getting up." Hermione countered. "I'm too upset to go upstairs."

"I hear that I'm a nice pillow." Fred said.

Hermione blushed, but it quickly faded as she hissed, "I hear that a chair all to me is nice as well.

"Well, we can't have everything in the world now, can we?"

Hermione remained silent as she glowered up at the Weasley twin. She observed Fred for a few moments, listening to the crackling fire near them. Slowly but surely, she relaxed herself on the chair.

"Whatever anyone says, I'm only doing this because I'm tired." She said in a firm voice.

"Whatever you say." Chuckled Fred.

Hermione waved her wand once again and called out, _"Accio blanket."_

A rolled-up red blanket levitated up from a couch nearby and soared toward them; it drifted down onto them, covering them from shoulder to foot.

Fred looked down at Hermione, observing her reaction; she was unexpectedly calm about the predicament. She was warm to the touch, and he felt her hand brush against his at one point. Hermione was already a powerful witch. She was only starting her fourth-year, and she could already perform transfiguration spells without saying the spell's name like Professor McGonagall! (Fred could barely produce a simple "Expelliarmus" spell at that age. He never paid that much attention to Hermione before due to her being somewhat of a teacher's pet, but whatever quality he admired about her had been affecting him to a great extent. Perhaps it was because of the popularity of her with Ron that got him more interested for her. Nevertheless, George and Lee would be sure to make fun of him because of his new blossoming friendship with Hermione.

"Goodnight, darling." Fred whispered, carefully wrapping his arm around Hermione.

"Quiet." She said, her eyes closed. "Trying to sleep."

Fred agreed to remain quiet for the last moments he would be awake. He closed his eyes, waiting for the blanket of darkness to pull him into a peaceful slumber. He quickly fell asleep right after hearing a set of girlish chuckles and laughs through the darkness.

It was rather strange to Fred that Hermione never kept him from wrapping his arms around her that night.


	3. Could Have Gone Terribly Wrong

The first warm rays of sunlight seeped into the Gryffindor common room from the majestic arched window. The room glowed calmly, obtaining the golden tinge of the morning light. It was still very quiet, for the Gryffindor students were still fast asleep. The only thing breaking the relaxing silence was the crackling of the never-ending fire subdued in the hearth and the soft, repetitive snores of Fred.

Hermione, being much of an early bird, slowly opened her eyes to peer around the common room. She almost had forgotten that she had decided to sleep in here than in her dormitory. She then realized that something was wrapped around her shoulders. She craned her head and looked over at the snoozing Fred beside her. Although he was asleep, his arm prevented Hermione from moving that much; but, whether Hermione liked the situation or not, she really didn't want to miss out on her first class of the year.

Hermione lightly nudged Fred, forcing him to wriggle out of his dream.

"Do you have _any_ idea what time it is?" He asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Do you?" asked Hermione.

Fred laughed, "No! I don't wear watches."

Hermione huffed and pulled herself out of the lounge chair. She then began climbing the staircase up to her dormitory.

"Where're you going?" Fred called out to her.

"Off to get ready."

"But you're already in your school robes!" Fred said, gesturing to her clothes.

Hermione said sharply, "It's called _bed hair, _Fred!"

Before she could hear his reply, she had already reached her dormitory door. She opened it very cautiously, aware that the other girls sharing her dorm could still be asleep.

Hermione shared the dorm with the other fourth-year Gryffindor girls: Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and Fay Dunbar. Their being the few girls that seemed to talk to Hermione often, Hermione learned to never mind their constant jibber-jabber of gossip. Sometimes, she even found listening in to their conversations and occasionally adding her share of stories a wonderful source of entertainment.

But, this time Hermione _did_ mind. She heard her name whispered in the room, prompting her to listen behind the door on what they had to say – oddly enough – near six-in-the-morning.

"Did Hermione ever come back up here?" Lavender asked.

From the small crack in the door, Hermione saw Parvati hop off her bed and pull the red curtains back on Hermione's bed.

"Apparently not." said Parvati.

Fay giggled, "Probably still sleeping with Fred."

"Hm," Parvati said, "It seems like they have it in for each other. I honestly never suspected it."

"Exactly!" Lavender squeaked, "Fred _Weasley_ and Hermione _Granger?_ They were the last people I would suspect to fancy each other!"

"A goodie-two-shoe and a troublemaker._ This_ will be interesting to see." said Fay, crossing her arms. She then added, "I always thought Fred liked that Angelina chick."

Hermione never would have seen her and Fred together as well. He was in his sixth year, and she was in her fourth. Cho Chang would have had a better shot at that Weasley twin than her. Hermione considered Fred as a friend – that was it. She had only started talking to him frequently because of Ron and Harry's friendship with him.

Hermione decided she had heard enough gossip for the day and quickly opened the door, silencing the dormitory almost immediately.

"Sorry, I nodded off in the common room. What did I miss?" asked Hermione, glancing nervously at the three girls.

Parvati, Lavender, and Fay shared uncertain glances at each other.

"Oh, nothing special, really." said Lavender airily.

Parvati looked at the clock on the wall above her.

"Well," she stated, brushing herself off and starting for the door, "Might as well get ready for breakfast."

Parvati climbed down the spiral staircase with Fay trailing behind her.

Hermione watched them go down the staircase for a few seconds, and then reached for the hairbrush on her nightstand beside her bed. She began brushing her bushy, tangled hair, muttering "ow!" every now and then.

_Well, Hermione,_ she thought, _Care of Magical Creatures after breakfast._

* * *

><p>Everyone throughout the week talked about the upcoming Triwizard Tournament. Rumor had it that Cedric Diggory, a Hufflepuff, would be entering. He was older than seventeen, so he would be eligible to enter, unlike Fred and George. They, however, swore they would enter the contest no matter what.<p>

Everyone also anticipated the arrival of the other schools competing: Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Hermione had read about how secretive those two schools were about their ways of teaching, especially Durmstrang. Rumor had it that that school focused more on the Dark Arts than anything else. But, with Mad-Eye Moody teaching at Hogwarts this year, how extreme could Durmstrang's curriculum be?

Hermione spent much of her free-time in the library. She researched the history of house-elves, determined to fight for the latter's rights to freedom and fair wages and suitable working conditions. Ever since she had seen Winky's horrible life as Mr. Crouch's house-elf back at the Quidditch World Cup, she frequently complained to Ron and Harry about how their beds were made, their breakfast served, and their clothes washed all because of house-elves.

"Let it go!" They like to work!" Ron always told her during her rants, but to no avail of changing Hermione's mind.

Soon enough, she decided to found S.P.E.W., and organization designed to help free house-elves from slavery. Hermione forced more than persuaded Harry and Ron to join S.P.E.W.

"And how many members have joined?" Ron asked without the slightest interest.

"So far…?" Hermione mumbled. "Only three."

* * *

><p>"S.P.E.W., huh?" Fred said during a calm stroll to the lake just beyond the castle of Hogwarts. Ron and Harry were up to something with Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas up in the boys' dormitory, so Hermione called upon Fred to hang out with. She had just finished telling him about her plans for her organization. Unusually, Fred was rather quiet during Hermione's rambling instead of being energetic and quick to talk back.<p>

"Hopefully, more people will get behind it." Hermione told him. She stopped in her tracks and beamed up at Fred. "Would you like to join?"

Fred shrugged. "I'll think about it, okay? Me and George are busy working on an aging potion for the Triwizard Tournament."

"You're still going to enter?"

"Of course! All those galleons as a prize…wouldn't _you_ want that?" Fred dreamily replied.

"Who wouldn't want money?" Hermione had to say. She then corrected her posture and added, "But it's against the rules. You can get in serious trouble for messing with the tournament."

"Whatever! Mum's punishments are far much worse than anything the Ministry can do." said Fred, though he seemed a bit nervous.

"Like what, send a howler?" said Hermione. She still clearly remembered the time Mrs. Weasley sent a howler to Ron. The look on his face was priceless! She was honestly surprised that not many people made fun of him for how he cowered in fear after the howler was through yelling.

Hermione heard Fred gulp.

"Possibly." He said with a marginally embarrassed smile.

Hermione shook her head solemnly and said, "I'm going to go study. Go make your aging potion."

"_Study? Now?"_ Fred took a step in front of her. "It's a beautiful day out!"

"Oh?" Hermione hissed, "And what do you propose we should do, try to guess the riddle to the Ravenclaw common room?"

Fred laughed, "Of course not! Me and George already tried that a few days ago. It was easy to figure out, but Professor McGonagall was walking by and caught us and took ten points from Gryffindor. To be honest, we were surprised she didn't give us detention. And-"

"Get on with it!" Hermione snapped, "I can't believe you lost Gryffindor points already!"

Looking slightly offended, Fred continued on with his main idea, "I dunno, maybe I can teach you how to play Quidditch!" Fred's eyes brightened at the thought.

"But Dumbledore said there would be no Quidditch games this year due to the tournament."

"He said Quidditch _games!_ He never said anything about Quidditch _practices!"_ Fred gave Hermione a wink.

"But…he did, though." muttered Hermione.

But, before she could tell him off over how desperate he was for some troublemaking (Or what Fred liked to call "fun"), he took her hand and led her to the wide, green field known as the Quidditch pitch. Gold hoops towered over them on each side of the playing field. The bleachers circling it were as empty as a ghost town. Only in a few occasions had Hermione seen what the field looked like devoid of an audience, and that was when she was busy watching Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team square off in a practice game. But now there was only one player, and the place seemed dead as ever.

"Here, catch!" Fred cried, tossing a broomstick to Hermione, who barely caught it.

"…Do I just get on it?" She asked, looking down at the broom hesitantly. She could barely remember the last flying lesson she had, which was in her first year.

Fred laughed at her fumble, causing Hermione to turn scarlet. "Let's see what you remember first." He stepped back and leaned against his own broomstick with patience.

Hermione glared at Fred first, and then saddled the broomstick nervously.

"What now?" She asked, looking at the ground still close to her.

"Kick off the ground."

Hermione gave the earth a measly kick; Fred began laughing uncontrollably.

"You call _that _a kick? _Crookshanks_ can fly a broomstick better than you!" Fred retorted. He got onto his broom. "Watch me."

He stomped onto the ground forcefully, and, with tremendously great speed, sliced through the air as he barreled across the Quidditch pitch. In seconds he made a lap around the field whilst blasting wind in all directions as he turned sharp corners here and there. He swooped past Hermione, almost knocking her off her feet. Fred moved almost timelessly to Hermione. On his face was a magnificently grand smile of enjoyment. He loved Quidditch as much as Harry did, and he was not afraid to show off his flying skills. He howled in delight, almost being drowned by the rush of cool wind disturbing the bright green patches of grass below.

Fred made a gentle turn and softly hovered next to Hermione. He lighted down like a downy feather, wearing a delicate grin of triumph.

"See? It's that easy!" He cried as he leaned on his upright broomstick like a walking stick.

Hermione huffed in annoyance.

_If it were that easy, I would've tried out for the Quidditch team years ago_, she pretentiously thought.

She kicked off the ground a little bit harder than before. She floated up as if her own broom hesitated to go any higher.

Fred seized his wand in his pockets and pointed it toward Hermione.

Hermione's eyes widened and her grip on the broom handle tightened. "What are you doing?!" She asked heatedly.

Fred said nothing. All he said was, _"Locomotor broomstick!"_

Hermione's broomstick followed his wand's movement in a rough, jerking manner. She held onto the broom for dear life as it bucked and kicked and made figure eights in the air. Fred moved the broom all across the field, sometimes throwing the broom across to the goal posts and stopping Hermione abruptly in mid-air.

"_Fred! Stop it right now!"_ She shrieked in fear, clinging onto the broom handle.

Fred sighed, "Fine, if you say so."

Hermione's broomstick suddenly lay still in the air. Not expecting Fred to actually do what she ordered, her grip quickly loosened. She was flung off the broom, her hand struggling to grab the wand in her pocket as the plummeted down to the ground. She watched the earth fly closer and closer. She could feel the wand now in her possession beginning to slip from her grasp.

She quickly cried against the roar of the wind around her_, "Arresto Momentum!"_

Her body began to slow, but it was not enough for her to land feather-like on the ground. The grassy field still grew closer and closer each second with unnerving speed.

Fred positioned himself right below Hermione, his arms out to catch her. With a loud, rough thud, Hermione fell into his arms safely. Unfortunately for Fred, however, she returned enraged as ever.

"FRED WEASLEY! WHY DID YOU DO THAT?" Hermione howled, throwing her arms, trying to get him to drop her.

"I helped you out! Did you see how fast you went on that broomstick?" Fred said in awe.

"I DID JUST FINE WITHOUT YOUR HELP!"

"Oh yes," Fred hissed, "Hermione, the next Gryffindor Chaser superstar!" He then sheathed his arms, letting Hermione fall flat onto to the hard ground.

Hermione began tidying her ruffled hair and clothes. There was fire in her eyes as she observed Fred crossly.

Finally, she let out a faint mumble, "Well, I guess it was a little…cool."

Fred knelt down so he could be at eye-level with Hermione. He donned a bubbly smile that made her face brighten in cheer.

"Not to worry! Just stick by me and you'll never be bored again!"

Whether or not Fred meant to say that in innocence, Hermione could only blush. Were Fay, Parvati, and Lavender right on her and Fred being a couple? No! His shining brown eyes, his sleek ginger hair, his distinct cheek bones and dimples…Oh, who was Hermione kidding? He was adorable!

She got up quickly, brushing herself off to rid of the dry clumps of grass clinging to her clothes.

"Okay, now I'm going back to the castle." Hermione told Fred; the then began speedily walking back to the entrance of Hogwarts, trying to hide her blushing cheeks with her long sleeves.

"Leave some books for the rest of us, darling!" Fred shouted.

* * *

><p>October the Thirtieth came very quickly. The anticipation of the arrival of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang grew strong, cloaking the entire school in the hunger to show off the school's highest qualities. Teachers and staff began to tidy up Hogwarts to make each corner spotless and beautiful. The Heads of the Houses kept their students tightly in line in the hopes of no person embarrassing the school by bewitching an object to attack any bystander, use a spell so incorrectly that no one could guess what spell they were trying to create, or pull vicious pranks.<p>

"I honestly have no idea why Professor McGonagall looked at us when she said no pranks!" George growled rather angrily.

Hermione could only laugh to herself as she led Harry and Ron past the twins toward Potions class.

On the morning the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang parties were expected to arrive, Hermione, Harry, and Ron found themselves sitting next to the Weasley twins in the Great Hall. Fred and George were whispering darkly between each other. Even Hermione, who was sitting next to Fred, could barely make a word out of their secret conversation.

"What's up with you two?" Ron curiously asked and helped himself to some bacon.

"Nose out." said George bitterly. He then said to Fred, "He can't avoid us forever-"

"Who's not gonna avoid you forever?" asked Ron.

"I said _stay out,_ Ron!"

Fortunately, Harry changed the subject to the Triwizard Tournament, much to everyone's satisfaction. Fred and George delightfully told them all they knew about the tournament. Hermione unsurprisingly added to their information immediately, quoting the book _Hogwarts, a History._

"That book…it would be better if it were renamed_ 'A Highly Biased and Selective History of Hogwarts, which Glosses over the Nastier Aspects of the School'."_ Hermione muttered in anger.

"This is about house-elves, isn't it?" Ron groaned, gulping down some orange juice. "Let. It. Go!"

"I will most certainly not! Not until house-elves are given fair wages and better working conditions at the least!" Hermione replied sharply.

She watched Ron roll his eyes, Harry nervously watching her, and Fred staring at the eggs on his plate. Of all people, she was a bit hurt to see Fred act so disinterested of S.P.E.W.

"Listen, Hermione." George said with a struggling sympathetic voice, "Fred and I've been to the kitchens to nick food. The elves are _happy._ They_ love_ to work!"

"That's because they don't know any better! They're uneducated of the world outside cleaning rooms and cooking meals!" barked Hermione.

The hooting of many owls caused her to stop arguing. A large cluster of owls flew overhead, returning letters and other parcels to their addressees. The familiar white snowy owl of Harry's fluttered to them with a letter attached to her leg.

"Thanks, Hedwig." Harry said to her and fed her a piece of bacon. She flew off, leaving Harry, Ron, and Hermione to read the letter they knew was from Sirius…or Snuffles, which was what was written in the introduction.

* * *

><p>In the evening, the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students arrived. Viktor Krum was among the Durmstrang party, prompting a couple of girls and Ron to jump in astonishment and glee for their idol. The three schools arranged themselves to sit in the Great Hall for the Welcoming Feast. The Beauxbatons students sat the Ravenclaw table, and Durmstrang sat the Slytherin table, much to Ron's dislike.<p>

"They would have a _much_ better time sitting with us." Ron muttered gloomily.

"What, and watch you stare at Krum the entire time?" Hermione rhetorically asked.

After Dumbledore welcomed the two schools to Hogwarts, Ron had his eye on a beautiful blonde-haired girl belonging to Beauxbatons. Every now and then, Hermione had to hit him to get him out of his love-struck state, but only temporarily did Ron focus on his meal. Ron willfully gave up some foreign dishes to her so there was an excuse to see her up-close.

Once everyone had finished their meals, the students of Hogwarts leaving most of the plates and bowls full of foreign foods untouched, Dumbledore stood up behind the royal podium. With his formal voice rising into the Great Hall, every person fell into silence. He began explaining the plans of the Triwizard Tournament, causing countless amounts of people to look at each other anxiously.

After explaining the tournament's procedures, Dumbledore carefully opened a casket, revealing a large wooden goblet with blue flames lapping at the awestruck faces gazing up at the cup.

"This will be the one who chooses the champions: the Goblet of Fire." Professor Dumbledore told everyone. He placed down the goblet on the now-closed casket.

"Until tomorrow night, the Goblet of Fire will be placed in the Great Hall for anyone who would like to enter their names." Dumbledore's voice became dark and serious, "But I must say once again that this competition isn't for the faintest of heart. That is why there will be an age line set around the goblet to prevent anyone under the age of seventeen to put their name in. Anyone underage will receive a rather…Unusual punishment." Dumbledore seemed to have been looking the Weasley twins' way, as if he knew of their private plan.

"Tomorrow night, the Goblet of Fire will return the three names chosen to compete in the Triwizard Tournament…"

After even more explanation of the procedure, students were finally able to get some sleep. The talk of the night, obviously, was of the Triwizard Tournament. A few second-years were amazing by Fred and George, who were happily telling them about their plan of drinking an aging potion to get past the age line. The second-years were looking at the twins as if they were gods – something Hermione wished wouldn't have happened.

_If this keeps up, Gryffindor will have even more class clowns to deal with!_ Hermione nervously thought.


	4. One Plus One Makes Two

_**Author's Note**: Fairly quick update - I wanted to get this chapter up so I can send you this message below:_

_I am in need of a beta for future chapters! I have been messaging countless amounts of people to beta read this story, but many are inactive. The kind of beta I want is a person who can do the simple grammar read-through, and more importantly, know how characters should and should not act like (At least Fred and Hermione)._

_So, if you know an active and wonderful beta reader, or even want to recommend yourself, please private message me, and I'll see if I want you as Fireworks's beta!_

* * *

><p>On Halloween day, Hermione met Ron and Harry in the common room, and they set off to breakfast. As they reached the large opened door to the Great Hall, they noticed quite a big group of students surrounding the Goblet of Fire. Two tall, red-haired boys stood in the center of the crowd holding in the air a small bottle in their hands. Hermione drew closer to see what Fred and George were trying to do, as if she needed explaining.<p>

"Care for some, Lee?" George asked to his friend, wildly shaking the potion in his hand.

"No, thanks!" said Lee.

"Ready, George?" Fred asked taking the cork off his bottle.

"Ready, Fred!"

Simultaneously, they gulped down the potion. They boldly stepped across the age line; a few people gasped as they did so. Fred and George looked down at their feet, waiting for anything to happen.

"It worked!" They howled cheerfully. Half the Great Hall began clapping for them, surprised to see that they actually cracked the spell.

But, with a puff of smoke, Fred and George suddenly flew back as if they had been caught in an explosion. They were thrown several feet away from the Goblet of Fire- they would have plowed Harry down if Ron hadn't pulled him aside. The twins landed on their backs, stiffly laying there groaning. Bystanders rushed to them, exchanging looks of worry and muttering to each other to fetch a teacher.

Hermione fought her way to the front of the crowd. She looked at the mangled twins in anger for them disobeying Dumbledore's orders and fear for their well-being. As she finally got to the front, she noticed strange puffs of silver resting on their faces. The twins slowly got up, moaning to themselves in pain. Now, Hermione was sure it wasn't just a grey cat that decided to settle down atop their faces. Several people gasped along with Hermione.

"Fred! George!" she cried in shock. "You have _beards!"_

The twins seized their silver puffs, tugging on them, hoping it would fall off. They stared at each other in disbelief, eyeing each other's new facial hair.

"B-But –" George alarmingly gasped, until a certainly amused Dumbledore split the crowd and towered over them.

He chuckled," I suggest you go up to Madame Pomfrey. She's already treating two other students who took an aging potion like you two. I have to say, their beards weren't as fine as yours."

The room laughed in delight as Fred and George staggered back onto their feet. They hurried out the Great Hall whilst saying to each other "You said it would work!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and quickly slipped away from Ron and Harry to follow Fred and George to the infirmary.

"That was idiotic!" she barked to them. "You made total fools of yourselves."

George turned around and looked at Hermione sternly. "Why would you care, exactly?" he asked.

She began to blush faintly. "You're making Hogwarts look bad _right_ in front of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang!" she explained hotly.

The twins chortled through their puffy beards.

"Admit it, darling," said Fred. "You care about us."

Hermione scoffed, "As if! You can go poison Seamus's drink with a hiccupping serum if you want, but not when Hogwarts's reputation is on the line!"

"Is that all you care about, rules and reputations?" Fred asked tiredly.

Hermione looked at them severely; she plainly shook her head. "Never mind," she mumbled, "Go fix your beards."

With no backwards glance, Fred and George turned around and raced off to the infirmary. Fred noticed George staring at him in amusement as they turned a corner.

Fred said jokingly, "If you're ogling at my beard-"

"I'm not," George hastily replied, "It's just that Granger must have a _massive_ crush on you."

Fred blinked in curiosity. "Well…I guess so, but she's…_Granger."_

"You never really know what would happen, Fred." George remarked, climbing the final staircase to the infirmary. "Maybe you should see what she's like."

"But, why?"

"I dunno," George shook his head. "Well, let's be honest. You don't really stand that much of a chance with Angelina, do you?"

That part was true in Fred's mind. Angelina was a good friend, and it would just ruin their friendship if they ever started seeing each other. Perhaps George was right on befriending Hermione a little bit more. Angelina had standards, and it would be one interesting story to tell his friends about him and Hermione.

Fred and George made it to the infirmary door and speedily entered.

* * *

><p>Without a silver strand left on their faces, Fred and George made their way to the Great Hall. The Goblet of Fire was almost due to choose the Triwizard champions. The Hall was already well-packed with waiting people from all three schools. The twins sat with Harry, Ron, and Hermione at the Gryffindor table, the twins staring mournfully at the blazing cup.<p>

"We could've gotten in," they muttered enigmatically.

"You ought to have known the aging potion wouldn't have worked!" Hermione snapped.

"You can't blame them, Hermione," Ron kindly explained, "A thousand galleons can't hurt anyone."

"And besides," added Fred, "we need the funds."

"For what?" Hermione asked.

Fred and George stared down at their plates, dodging the question as best they could.

Professor Dumbledore stood up, hushing the room almost instantly. Everyone's eyes were glued to the Headmaster. He opened his arms wide and said loudly, "The time has come for the choosing of the champions."

The room grew dark as the candles were put out. The Goblet of Fire's blue flames crackled softly through the darkness. The fire began to spin uncontrollably, releasing glowing embers into the air like confetti. In the core of the catastrophe, a folded piece of parchment formed; it was flung into the air, everyone left breathless. Professor Dumbledore seized the paper and longingly stared at the writing engraved onto it.

He said with a proud, clear voice, "The champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum!"

The candles were relit, and the crowd roared into a hearty applause, mostly from the other Durmstrang students, who were howling and stomping in glee. Viktor Krum stood up from his seat at the Slytherin table, taking in the applause. He crossed the room, strongly shook Dumbledore's hand, and was guided into a guarded chamber at the back of the Great Hall.

Everyone fell into complete silence once again as the candles were brandished once again. The burning flame in the goblet began to dance furiously. It threw another piece of parchment into the air, which Dumbledore quickly caught. His eyes stared at the paper restlessly.

"The champion for Beauxbatons will be Fleur Delacour!"

The room erupted into cheers and claps. The blue-clad girl Ron was gazing love-struck at hopped up from her seat and bounded up to Dumbledore. She happily shook his hand and disappeared into the chamber Krum was led to.

As soon as Fleur had gone, the Goblet of Fire grew active once again. A piece of paper flew out of the goblet and into Dumbledore's outstretched hand – he read this one out with slightly more pride.

"The champion for Hogwarts is Cedric Diggory!"

The well-known Hufflepuff stood up, listening to the cheering crowd for a few seconds before crossing the room to Dumbledore, shaking his hand merrily. He disappeared into the other room, which was guarded by a bright-faced Professor McGonagall.

The tables broke into talk briefly. Many people expected Cedric to be chosen as champion, but they were still amazed. Fred and George were wearing smiles, but they were still disappointed of not being able to enter themselves into the tournament.

Hermione softly patted Fred's hand from across the table.

"It's alright," she said caringly.

Fred smiled delicately and looked down at his clean plate.

The fire in the goblet suddenly began to spin. Everyone's attention was pulled back to the glowing fire. Dumbledore's eyes widened in surprise, and you could see the blood draining from his body. The goblet flung another piece of parchment to him, in which he caught. He eyed the writing silently, taking in every single detail to make sure what he was witnessing was not false.

"Harry Potter," He announced hoarsely.

The crowd remained silent. Harry – who was sitting next to Hermione –seemed to shrink as a wave of eyes fell onto him.

"Harry, go," Hermione whispered to him, almost inaudibly. Harry refused to budge, resulting in her forcefully shoving him out of his own seat.

Harry finally staggered to his feet, towering over the sea of ghastly figures. He stumbled up to Dumbledore, who only stared grimly at him, not allowing him to even shake his hand like the other three champions. Professor McGonagall hastily ushered Harry into the chamber in the back, and the room felt ominously cold, to which it were someone's deathday.

"Students, return to your dormitories!" Dumbledore ordered "Teachers, follow me, please."

The sitting figures quickly rose and hurried out the door.

"We didn't even make it past the age line!" Fred groaned to his twin. "How on Earth did Harry get his name in the goblet?"

"Hey!" Hermione snapped. "What if Harry didn't even put his name in?"

"_Please."_ Ron grumbled sourly as they turned the corner on their way to the moving staircases. "He's just looking for another excuse to see his name in the _Daily Prophet _again."

"Ron, how could you say that?" gasped Hermione, her eyes as wide as saucers. "You know how Harry is! He's not like that!"

"He could've at least told me his plan," Ron said angrily. "Balderdash."

The painting of the Fat Lady swung open, looking fairly interested in knowing what had happened in the Great Hall. The Gryffindors flooded into the common room, that majority of the students cheering for the new Gryffindor champion. A few remained remotely silent and skulked back into their dormitories.

Fred and George were setting up fireworks to commemorate Harry's feat, along with the help of Lee Jordan.

"I thought you didn't like Harry being a champion," Angelina told the twins, who were dangerously balancing themselves on stacks of books and chairs to mount banners onto the wall.

"Well, at least one of the champions was from Gryffindor," sighed Fred. Then, his own stack of books wobbled underneath him and crashed down, dropping him flat on his back.

Ron, however, was among the people who decided not to wait for Harry's return. He was already half-up the boys' staircase when Hermione intercepted him.

"Don't you want to congratulate Harry?" she insisted in worry.

"No. Why would I want to?" Ron answered with fire in his eyes and climbed higher and higher.

"Ron," Hermione desperately cried out. The only reply she received was a loud slam of a door.

* * *

><p>The days went by horribly for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Ron had been ignoring Harry ever since the choosing of the Triwizard champions. From what Hermione was able to excavate from Ron, she learned that he was tired of Harry getting the spotlight all the time that he finally snapped; though she always tried her best to return the two to speaking terms whenever possible.<p>

"Ron, want to come down to breakfast?" Hermione asked in the common room.

Ron yawned, still in a sleepy trance, "Fine. Thank god there are no classes on Saturdays."

They made their way to the Great Hall, and Hermione snaked her way to the Gryffindor table and sat beside Harry, who seemed rather lonely with only his glass of milk and half-eaten apple to keep him company.

Ron glowered at Hermione in disgust. "I'm not sitting with him," he hissed.

"Ron, please," begged Hermione. "If I'm your friend, then you would still sit with me, right? Come on, you two don't have to talk."

Ron clenched his fists whilst pondering over whether to sit at the table or not. Finally, he sat down across from Hermione, looking away from Harry, who was doing the same.

"Well," Hermione said as she poured herself a glass of orange juice. "Isn't this nice?"

"Not really," Ron growled.

"Same," said Harry.

"Did I tell you to talk to me?" Ron snarled, venom oozing from his words.

"I wasn't talking to you! I was mostly talking to Hermione – she's my friend too!" Harry countered.

"I wish you would just shut up! Do you have _any_ idea how annoying you are! I can't believe I just noticed it now!" hissed Ron.

"Look who's talking!" Harry yowled with equal intensity.

Hermione slammed down the jug of orange juice and glared coldly into Ron and Harry's eyes.

"I can't believe you two are acting like this! You used to be such good friends!" she said with disdain.

"Well, people change," Harry grumbled and got up from the table and left the Great Hall without another word.

Hermione stared down Ron, saying with her eyes to go and apologize to Harry.

"No!" Ron growled. "He doesn't need me, and I don't need him. He probably found other people to hang out with because of his '_champion status' _now." He then stabbed a piece of sausage with unnecessary force with his fork and moved to where Seamus and Dean were settling down at.

* * *

><p>On Sunday afternoon, Fred was walking down the semi-packed hallway when he noticed Hermione sitting on the staircase leading to the courtyard. He plopped down next to her, reading the book she had open.<p>

"Reading up on the Triwizard Tournament, I see," he said. "Thinking about boring Harry to death before the tournament does?"

"Knock it off, Fred!" Hermione growled irritably. "Harry didn't ask for this!"

"Relax, Granger! I believe you," Fred quickly said.

Hermione closed her book. "I wish Ron believes that as much as you. He and Harry are acting stupid! A few days ago, they were the best of friends."

Fred said nothing. He knew he could help that much. The only plan he could think of doing was drinking a Polyjuice Potion and apologize to Harry as Ron. But, knowing Hermione, she would tell him off before he could even pluck a red strand of hair off of his little brother.

"I'm going up to the library," Hermione said detachedly and picked up the three books to her side. She climbed the stairs and scurried to the direction of the library.

Feeling guilty of not being able to help her, Fred followed her closely.

"Mind if I come?" he asked, surprised of his own friendliness.

Hermione was astonished as well. She turned around slowly.

"_You_ want to go to the _library?"_ she tried to clarify.

"Well," Fred struggled to explain, "I-I need to look up some stuff about – about potions!"

Hermione still had a look of suspicion on her face. "What kind of potions are we talking about here?" she asked.

"Well, that's why I'm going to the library," Fred said carelessly.

Hermione let a few seconds roll by before she reached her verdict. "Alright, come on."

Hermione led Fred down the corridor to a door with windows to each of its sides. Fred could see the massive shelves stuffed to the brim with countless new and beaten-up books. When they entered, the room was dead-silent; Fred was surprised at how quiet a room at Hogwarts could be. Hermione dropped her books down onto a table.

"Let's go find you some potion books," she said with a smile; she was elated to be in her element.

"_Books?"_ said Fred slowly, "As in more than one?"

"Of course! Wait here."

Hermione delved into the labyrinth of bookshelves for a minute or two. She ultimately emerged with five thick books in her arms. She set them on the table in exhaustion, but also with a smile of happiness.

"Wait…You want me to read all that?" Fred said in remorse, beginning to regret ever coming here with her. He sat down at the table, along with Hermione.

"I'll help you." Hermione said, opening a book. "What kind of potion are you looking for?"

"Er…"

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head in displeasure.

"We're going to be here for a while then." she sighed. She opened one of the books, and she passed one to Fred. "Look for some potions that look interesting. Maybe you could ask Professor Snape if your class could try to make them some time."

"Socializing with Snape? No thanks!" Fred jeered.

Hermione acted as if she did not hear his remark and continued flipping through her book. It took Fred half-an-hour to find a potion that was decently interesting to him and not about curing a cold or growing fingernails quicker. It was a love potion.

_Amortentia is the most powerful Love Potion in existence. It causes a powerful infatuation or obsession from the drinker. It has a distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen, and steam rises from it in characteristic spirals. It possesses a different aroma for whoever smells it, and takes on the scent of what attracts that person the most._

"Interesting," muttered Fred, his eyes brightening.

Hermione looked up from her book.

"What did you find?" she asked and leaned over enthusiastically to look over Fred's book.

He quickly seized the book off the table before she could even see the page number.

"What, you're embarrassed over a book?" Hermione retaliated.

The famous Bulgarian seeker and Triwizard champion soon entered the library, provoking Fred to change the subject at the nick of time.

"What's Viktor Krum doing here?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"He's probably reading up on spells or something," Hermione huffed as a couple of girls followed Krum into the library. "He's been coming here an awful lot lately. But I have no idea how a person can get any work done while a crowd of girls giggle and squeal over every little thing you do."

The girls were hiding behind a bookshelf, doing exactly what Hermione said – ogling and yelping over Krum flipping through pages of a Charms book. ("He picked out my favorite one! I can't believe it!")

Fred spent a few more minutes with Hermione before he decided to run off back to the Gryffindor common room. He, however, felt somewhat heartbroken to see Hermione's saddening face when he told her he was leaving her to her own devices. He knew that Ron and Harry weren't as studious and fond of literature as she was, and it must have been nice to have a friend with her for a change.

* * *

><p>"<em>Furnunculus!"<em>

"_Densaugeo!"_

Those two incantations echoed through the hallway. Two flashes of light sparked form behind a corner, causing strident gasps and screams to form in the thick air. Fred and George, who were sitting down nearby, looked up in curiosity at the corner.

"That sounded like Harry," said George in worry.

"And that Malfoy kid," added Fred.

There was a minute or two of arguing between Harry, Ron, and Draco. Then, Snape's voice entered the conversation. After a minute of quiet chatter between Snape, Malfoy, and Harry, a few soft footsteps began growing louder and louder; someone was coming closer and closer from Snape's dungeon. A caterwauling Hermione turned the corner and ran past Fred and George with her hands covering her face.

"Hey, slow down!" Fred shouted to her, though she did not stop to talk to him. She continued to run, most likely to the direction of the hospital wing.

Fred quickly stood up and paced after her in worry. What happened to poor Hermione? Did Snape say something horrible to her? He had never seen her so distraught. Come to think of it, he never even saw her cry before. Fred quickened his pace and carefully grabbed her shoulder once he reached her.

"Hermione, what's going on?" he asked in concern.

Hermione stopped in her tracks and slowly turned around, her hands still covering her face. She was trembling and sniffling, making herself look smaller than ever.

"Why're you crying?" asked Fred sympathetically.

Hermione shook her head aggressively. "No! You'll just make fun of me!" she cried.

"I promise I won't!"

Hermione let down her arms slowly, nervous to know the twin's reaction. Her front teeth were long and beaver-like, exceeding beyond her chin. Her eyes were pink and swelled up, and her cheeks were scarlet. Small glass-like tears fell from her eyelids as she watched Fred's expression transform into a look of shock.

"What happened?!" he gasped, his eyes wide.

"Draco…D-Draco used a s-spell and i-it hit m-me…" Hermione answered, sniffling uncontrollably.

Fred's eyes lit up like a flame. "That muskrat…I'll find some way to make him pay, don't worry. I _did _hear that he looked very dashing as a ferret from Mad-Eye Moody. I've been doing rather well in Transfiguration, too…"

Hermione's tiny smile brightened the hallway; though she instantly buried her face in her hands once again.

"Come on; let's take you to the infirmary," Fred said and took Hermione's hand. He led her to the hospital wing in silence, acting like a big brother. Hermione was blushing horribly during the entire trip, her mind more focused on the warmth of Fred's hand rather than her teeth epidemic.

Hermione quickly got her teeth fixed thanks to Madame Pomfrey. Quick and painless, she exited the hospital wing with a tender smile of relief on her face, when she saw Fred standing to the side of the door.

"What are you still doing here?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"Waiting for you," said Fred nonchalantly, "Might as well. I really don't want to go to Herbology right now."

"Fred, that's horri-"

Hermione kept herself from yelling at him. His generosity and friendliness this year were unbearable in a good way. She loved feeling cared for, even though she had Harry and Ron. But, nowadays, with Harry and Ron not on speaking terms, she felt that she was doing more of the caring.

"Thanks, Fred."

"Well, give me a shout if you need anything. I'll do anything to get out of class early," Fred brightly said and unexpectedly planted a kiss on Hermione's forehead. Her eyes widened as Fred straightened up his posture as if nothing happened. He turned and walked off, disappearing around the corner.

Hermione's face was as red as the boy's hair.

_What on Earth made him do that? s_he wondered with a growing smile. She didn't know if she should squeal like one of Viktor Krum's fan girls or hide away in a broom closet.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's note:<strong> Again, if you would like to recommend an excellent, active beta reader or even yourself to beta this story, please private message me!_


	5. Hogsmeade

_**Author's Note:** This chapter has been beta-ed by the wonderful **KittyCat809!** Check out her stories as well! She deserves it!_

* * *

><p>It was the Saturday before the First Task, and more importantly, for those who weren't Harry Potter, it was the first trip to Hogsmeade for all third-years and above at Hogwarts. Harry had been reluctant to go, knowing that there would be people who – just like at Hogwarts – would shoot him icy glares and scowls his way, but Hermione eventually persuaded him to come with his invisibility cloak.<p>

"Come on, Harry. No one will bother you. Please take the cloak off," Hermione said as they walked down the main street of Hogsmeade. Harry had been invisibly treading beside Hermione, though she had been receiving weird looks, for it looked as if she were talking to herself.

"No thanks," said Harry. He caught sight of Rita Skeeter, who was conversing with her photographer friend just behind Hermione. "See," – he pointed at Rita Skeeter, even though Hermione couldn't see where he wanted her attention at – "She won't leave me or anyone else alone ever since the Weighing of the Wands!"

Hermione glanced over her shoulder and saw the news reporter, and frowned at her direction.

"Her?" she said."Well…yeah, I've seen her interviewing people whenever she has the chance. Oh, dear. Not Neville."

Rita Skeeter had cornered Neville Longbottom near Dervish and Banges. Her mouth was moving quickly, and so was her acid-green quill against the parchment floating beside her. Poor Neville's face was turning red as he struggled to find the correct words to say for each question she spat out.

"Harry," Hermione said, "I thought you would want to go to Hogsmeade with Ron-"

"Not with him," Harry interrupted.

"But –"

"Listen, why don't we just go to the Three Broomsticks and forget about Ron, okay?" Harry pleaded.

"Fine," Hermione sighed, and she led the way to the famous pub.

But, when they got there, Harry immediately spotted a person he wanted to avoid. Ron was sitting at a table with Fred, George, and Lee, who were all drinking deeply from their butterbeer bottles.

"Oh, great," Harry muttered, and turned on his heel to leave, until he noticed Hermione had left his side to sit at an empty table. He grudgingly followed her to the table and sat across from her. Hermione pulled out a battered notebook with ink splotched onto the cover reading "S.P.E.W."

"Still committed to your organization, I see," he said half-heartedly.

"Well, of course. Why would I abandon something so important?" Hermione said, noting down information into her notepad.

Fred and George came to their table, leaving behind a seemingly annoyed Ron and seemingly drunken Lee. Hermione spotted what looked like the logo of firewhisky on Lee's drink.

"Why're you alone, Hermione?" asked Fred. "I thought you would be with Ron or even Harry, until Mr. I'm-Pissed-At-The-World came here a few minutes ago."

"I just wanted to be alone today, that's all," Hermione answered, closing her S.P.E.W. notebook.

"Well, then your day won't be going as planned, then," Fred said, and slid into a seat beside Hermione, almost knocking Harry over; George sat in the remaining seat.

"Madame Rosmerta," Fred called to the pub owner; she finished taking the order of Parvati and Padame Patil and came to their table. "Could we have three butterbeers?"

"Er, add one more, please," Hermione courteously told the pub owner, remembering Harry was with them.

"Coming right up, sweeties," Madame Rosmerta eyed Hermione and the twins. "A special date, I suppose? I believe a date calls for one couple and no third-wheels."

"Oh, it's not a date, ma'am," Fred reassured her.

George shrugged, unscathed by Madame Rosmerta's slightly-hurtful comment.

He said, "I guess you could say I'm supervising these two lovebirds to make sure nothing bad happens to them." He winked.

"George," Fred grumbled, blushing a unique shade of pink. Hermione shrank in her seat, hoping the uncomfortable prickliness she was feeling would pass.

Madame Rosmerta returned with the four butterbeer bottles, and Fred grouchily paid her, irritated that she brought up such a sensitive topic. Hermione sneakily slid one bottle underneath the table for Harry to drink underneath his invisibility cloak.

George took a long sip from his bottle.

"I can't ever get enough of this stuff," he said happily.

"Hey, Hermione, have you ever been to Zonko's Joke Shop?" Fred asked between his downing of butterbeer.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I haven't. What's it like there?"

"Heaven!" George blurted out, his eyes sparking to life. "Shelves packed with whatever you can think of to terrorize the little first-years! Dungbombs, nose-biting teacups, ink-squirting quills-"

"_Ink-squirting quills?_ By any chance was the quill Colin Creevey was using during lunch yesterday one of those?" Hermione said in suspicion.

"Maybe," George said uneasily. "Come on, Fred. Why don't we show Miss Granger how to have fun for once?"

"Why not?" Fred grinned, stood up from his seat, and took Hermione's hand with no hesitation. The twins ran out of the Three Broomsticks, dragging Hermione along behind them.

"Hermione, wait up!" Hermione heard Harry yell behind her, but the door out of the pub slammed close behind her, and that was the last she heard of Harry.

They made their way to a shop on the main street; from the windows you could see the interior packed with students from Hogwarts. There were even a couple of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students looking around the store. The shop had aisles and aisles of endless amounts of products. It was like a nightmare to Hermione.

Hermione grudgingly entered the store with the twins trailing behind her.

_So, this is where all the troublemaking and pranks come from, _she thought with a frown; though, she couldn't help but me amazed by all the mischievous and clever trinkets up for sale.

"Ta da!" George cried, letting Hermione scan the place. "You like?"

"More or less," Hermione simply said looking distrustfully at a box of stink pellets.

An old yet nicely-suited man turned around from helping a third-year tell which one was his wand and which one was the toy, and smiled upon seeing Fred and George.

"Ah, my favorite customers!" he said openly. "Welcome, welcome! Good to see you two again! Oh," – his eyes lingered on Hermione – "and who is this young lady?"

"Hermione Granger," said Fred contently. "Hermione, this is Mr. Zonko, the owner of, you know, this shop."

"It's nice to meet the person who's been the source of all the detentions and troublemaking at Hogwarts," Hermione said nonchalantly.

Mr. Zonko chuckled, not taking the seriousness to heart, "Not at all, not at all. It's always been my pleasure to conjure up some entertainment at that school. Hogwarts got really boring sometimes when I was there, so why not give the kids there a way to spice up their studies?

"Nonetheless, boys, remember that everything's half-off for you guys, alright? Just make sure not to tell anyone," Mr. Zonko strode off.

"Isn't he wonderful?" said George.

"He's – this _shop _is barbaric," Hermione scowled. "I can't believe Professor Dumbledore lets students purchase things here."

"Simmer down, darling," Fred told her. "We still have a lot of things in stock still, so we really don't need anything here."

Something glowing in a magazine rack caught Hermione's eye. She strode to it and picked it up. It was pink owl-like glasses with luminous lenses – something she had never seen before. She turned it in her hands, observing the round frame.

"What is this?" she asked the twins.

"I believe that's some spectrespecs," George said. "This man named Something Lovegood has been coming in here every now-and-then trying to sell those things to Mr. Zonko. He sold a few to him, but I haven't seen anyone buy it lately. Kinda figures – that thing looks demented as hell."

"I like it," Hermione murmured, turning the spectrespecs in her hand once more. She tried them on, and her vision went awry. Suddenly, everything went pink and blue; blurry, and then back to normal again, until the cycle repeated. Hermione jumped back at the unusual sight, and gazed up at Fred, whose body was a shade of purple. "Do I look good?"

Fred blushed, but Hermione, with her spectrespecs on her head, couldn't see it.

"You look just as beautiful," he said cheerfully.

Hermione took off the spectrespecs off, not daring to catch Fred's gaze.

After she purchased the glasses for two sickles, the three exited Zonko's Joke Shop and Fred and George decided to take Hermione down to the lake shore, where they began to skip rocks across the water's surface. Hermione watched the twins hurl the rocks across the water, the projectiles perfectly leaping across the surface. George went to get sweets from Honeydukes, leaving Fred and Hermione at the shoreline.

"Come on, Hermione. You can do better than that," groaned Fred, picking up a few stones from the ground.

"It's. Not. Easy. As it. Looks!" Hermione said failing each time she tried to throw the pebbles across the lake.

"Here, let me help," Fred said, and took her hand before she tossed the stone out into open-water in frustration. "It's all in the wrist, really. Okay, one, two, three-"

Fred, with Hermione's hand cupped in his own, flung the stone away from the shore and out onto the lake, where it bounced from wave-to-wave for yards, until it finally subsided into the waters, leaving ripples in the water.

"See, that easy. Try it yourself," said Fred, stepping back to watch Hermione.

She gave him a disinclined look. She picked up another stone and took time to plan out her actions. She flicked the rock across the water, and it looked like it were about to immediately drop into the water once it touched the surface, but it suddenly hurriedly skipped across the lake, dunking itself into the water when it seemed to have travelled across half the body of water.

With a stunned, confused expression, Hermione turned around to stare at Fred, who was looking coolly at the lake with his hands behind his back.

"You're a natural!" he cried with a sincere smile spread across his face.

"Then what's behind your back, then?" said Hermione sternly.

"Nothing," said Fred shifting on his heels. Hermione bounded across the rocky shore toward him with a strict appearance.

"You used your wand to make the rock skip, didn't you?" she said unsympathetically.

"Of course not!" said Fred and backed away closer to the water's edge.

"Fred, I don't need your help on everything! I'm not a helpless three year-old!" Hermione said.

Fred brandished his wand and pointed it at Hermione. _"Accio wand."_

Hermione's wand escaped from her pocket and sliced through the air to be caught by Fred's hand.

"Give it back, you…y-you idiot!" Hermione hissed, storming across to Fred, who held her wand high up in the air so she could not reach it.

After a minute of Hermione's frantic shouts and jumps to try to grab her wand, Fred sighed and lowered his arm.

"Fine, darling."

But, before Hermione could swipe her wand back from him, someone shouted out _"Expelliarmus!"_ There was a bright-red light that shot across the shore and smashed into Fred's hand, flinging Hermione's wand out into the open-water. Another Expelliarmus Charm was sent at Fred's other hand, sending the Weasley's own wand with Hermione's.

Fred and Hermione looked to the direction of where the disarming charm originated from, and – of course – the source of the spell was from Draco Malfoy, who was cackling along with Crabbe and Goyle.

"Happy hunting!" Malfoy sneered, and he and his entourage strode off with looks of triumph on their faces.

Hermione yelled with venom oozing from her words, "Draco, you pathetic – idiotic – stupid –imbecile!" She shot Fred a cold glower. "It's all your fault! If you weren't so stubborn my wand would not be at the bottom of the lake right now!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Fred quickly said with a worried look on his face. "Come on; let's try to find where they landed. It didn't go far, I know that. I think it's somewhere near those boulders."

They treaded into the water to the rocks poking through the water's surface, staring into the dark, shallow waters and getting down onto their knees to sift through the sand.

"I can't find them!" Hermione cried out nervously. "That wand was eight galleons. I can't lose it!" Her parents were muggles, and she bet that they wouldn't be so happy to know she lost something so vital to her wizard training.

"Hey, I think I found them!" Fred told her; she rushed to where he was crouched down in the water and sat down next to him. Her eyes brightened when Fred pulled out their wands from the water, fortunately unharmed, though the wood was inevitably soggy.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Hermione squealed, taking her wand and engulfing Fred in a tight hug.

Unexpectedly, Fred pushed Hermione into the water. She landed in the relatively deep water, writhing around in shock and paranoia. She was gasping for air, her head barely above the surface.

"Need a help?" asked Fred, holding out a hand; he appeared to deeply regret pushing her in as he watched her struggle to stay above-water.

Hermione quickly grabbed ahold of his hand, but instead of letting him heave her up, she pulled on his arm. Fred plunged into the water with her, thrashing around just as she did a few seconds ago. When his head popped up out of the water, he had the most shaken look on his face, his eyes widened and jaw opened slightly.

Hermione laughed with a wide grin.

Fred gaped, "W-What-"

A tidal wave conjured by Hermione's arm crashed into Fred. He spat out a mouthful of water and smirked.

"So, you wanna play like that, huh?" said Fred impishly. He splashed a wave at her, and she did it back with equal force. Hermione treaded through the water and jumped onto his back and hung onto him as if he were giving her a piggy-back ride, hoping to push him down into the water (With no intention to kill him, of course).

"Should I come back another time when you two aren't atop each other?" George said from the lake shore. He had a mawkish gaze; his head turned away from them, and in his hands were the sweets and drinks he promised to get while he was gone.

"Oh, hi, George," Hermione said sheepishly and slipped back into the water as she blushed.

Fred and Hermione swam back to shore with their wands cradled in their hands, water dripping from their clothes. They settled in the shade of a pine tree with George and examined the candies he bought.

George rolled his eyes.

"Do I have to go get towels from the inn?" he asked lazily.

Fred and Hermione nodded, shivering in their soaked clothes.

"Fine. I'll be back," George got to his feet. "Now, don't go snogging each other while I'm gone." He left for the Three Broomsticks inn.

When he got back with the towels borrowed from Madame Rosmerta, Fred and Hermione wrapped themselves in the warm, dry blankets. The three dug into their sweets pile, laying down Chocolate Frog cards and telling each other stories.

Fred was in the middle of telling Hermione the story of how he and George stole the Marauder's Map from Filch when she suddenly noticed how much her heart was racing as she continued gazing at him. There was sweetness in his voice, something rare to hear in that prankster. He was talking to her as if she were one of his best friends. She could feel that he trusted her deeply, and she knew she trusted him as well. She felt lost in his words, and a charming smile crept onto her face when she thought of how much that wand-stealing jerk meant to her.

* * *

><p>Now, it was about ten in the afternoon. Everyone in the Gryffindor common room was already in their dorms getting ready for bed, except for the fourth-years. Harry and Ron were clearly still avoiding each other – Harry was sitting near the fireplace whilst Ron stood all the way across the room farthest away from him.<p>

"I'd rather eat dirt," Ron snarled at Hermione.

"Come on, Ron! Please make up with Harry!" she begged. "I can't stand seeing you two not talk anymore!"

"Well, why don't you tell Harry to apologize and_ maybe _I'll think about it," Ron said finally.

Hermione sighed and crossed the common room to where Harry was lounging in an armchair, talking to Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas.

"Harry," she said uncertainly, "Ron would like you to apologize."

"_Me? Apologize?_ As if!" Harry protested. "Tell him that he should apologize for being such a prat about something I didn't even want to do in the first place!"

Hermione sighed again, shuffled her feet, and walked back to Ron.

"Harry wants you to apologize. He says that you were…uninformed of what actually happened to him, and he would like you to accept the truth."

Ron said heatedly, "Well, tell Harry that –"

"I'm not an owl!" Hermione yowled.

"Woah woah woah! What's the matter here?" George shouted as he and Fred entered the Gryffindor common room through the portrait hole.

"Harry's being an egotistic plonker!" said Ron with fire in his eyes.

"Wow, I can't believe you actually know what 'egotistic' means with your D-average!" Harry yelled back with equal intensity.

"Calm down, now, children," George said with a grandmother-like voice; he threw his arm over Ron's shoulders. "Come on, kid. Why don't we tuck you in and sing you a bedtime story to help you fall asleep?"

"I'm not a dumbass little kid," said Ron, clenching his fists.

"Watch your tone, young man," George said. He dragged Ron to the boys' staircase. "You coming, Fred?"

"Nah, I'll work on Harry, I guess," Fred replied.

"_Work?"_ Harry retaliated.

"Never mind, Harry."

"Alright. Come on, Ron. It's time to calm down. So, what do you wanna talk about, unicorns? Rainbows? That stubby-legged dog England's Queen likes? What's it called...Oh yeah, a corgi," George and Ron climbed up the spiral staircase to the fourth-years' dormitory.

Hermione shuffled closer to Fred with sorrow in her eyes.

"I can't take their arguments anymore," she said almost inaudibly; she covered her face with her hands.

"Oh, come now," Fred soothingly whispered, and held her hands away from her sorrowful face. "It'll just take time. I'm sure they'll turn for the better, eventually."

"_Eventually?"_ Hermione mumbled, her eyes darkening.

"Well, yes, eventually. Nothing can happen overnight, dear," Fred's voice lowered. "Perhaps this little fight here is just a step for them to becoming closer."

Hermione nodded, wiping away the oncoming tears.

"I guess you're right. Thanks for that, Fred." She couldn't help but lean into him and give him a tight hug, provoking Seamus to whistle humorously at them.

A blanket of warmth and comfort wrapped around Fred, making him feel like as if he were home. He knew he could never forget her gentle touch and her loving affection. Girls had hugged Fred before, but he never felt such a heartening feeling until now. Why did he feel like that with Hermione? He couldn't grasp at an explanation, but he didn't want to question it. He_ couldn't _question it. It was like he couldn't go a day without having his heart race because of Hermione.

He hugged back.


	6. The Foreboding Task

_Again, this chapter has been beta read by **KittyCat809!**_

* * *

><p>The First Task of the Triwizard Tournament crept its way to the present. Hermione had been endlessly helping Harry train for whatever the task had in store for him. Ever since Hagrid had shown Harry the dragons the Champions have to face, Hermione had been sticking with him day-by-day, poring over books and advising him on that could save his life – no pile of books was left unchecked.<p>

Hermione and Ron sat next to the Weasley twins, who were selling food to the crowd. They overlooked the rocky battlefield in their stadium seats. The wild cheers of students rang through the chilling November air.

"Harry's gonna win. I _know_ he'll win," Ron said in delight.

Hermione stared at Ron questionably.

"I thought you hated Harry," she said distastefully.

Ron shook his head softly.

"I could never hate Harry. I was just acting stupid…He would never do that to himself, would he? You know, put his name in the goblet?"

Hermione was glad Ron accepted the outcome of Harry's dilemma. They were finally back together again after almost a month of separation and constant avoidance, and she was sure their usual routines of complaining about homework, practicing charms out-of-class, and eating together would settle back in well.

Ludo Bagman's magnified voice boomed over the never-ending cheers and screams of the crowd. Cedric Diggory was sent into the field face-to-face with a Swedish Shortsnout, officially starting the First Task.

Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor all reigned victorious, capturing the golden egg they were told to take from their respective dragons. Now, it was all up to Harry against the Hungarian Horntail.

Harry appeared from a small little crevice after Krum's dragon was tranquilized and taken away to be replaced with the Horntail. Harry seemed much more fearful than the other three Champions. He edged closer to the growling wyvern, which mashed its sharp fangs together and swung around its whip-like tail.

"I can't watch," Hermione moaned, burying her face in her hands. Fred and George sat at both her sides, and she found herself clutching Fred's arm, hoping against hope that luck would be on Harry's side today.

Harry raised his wand to the sky and shouted, _"Accio Firebolt!"_

* * *

><p>"He's got it! Harry Potter has successfully gotten past the Hungarian Horntail and retrieved his egg!" Bagman's billowing voice cried over the intensifying crowd.<p>

"He did it!" Hermione squeaked in relief, leaping out of her seat. "Harry did it!"

The crowd roared on and on. A few minutes of screaming rolled on, and the sea of people began to disperse to return to their everyday lives.

"I'm gonna go talk to Harry," Ron said to Hermione. "You know, patch things up."

He climbed down a nearby staircase leading to the field. He crossed it and met up with Harry near the crevice at which he appeared onto the field.

Hermione was still full of happiness that Harry had not only survived, but he had won first place for the First Task. She turned to Fred and George, who were preparing to leave, and she suddenly seized Fred. She pulled him into a tight hug, oblivious of the curious looks she was attracting.

Fred looked down at her with astonishment. He looked over at George, who was sniggering in-place, and he, Fred, looked back at Hermione.

"What's this for?" he asked.

"I just need to hug someone," she replied favorably.

Fred cautiously patted Hermione back, shocked on how comfortable she was with him, though he never did say he hated it.

Hermione quickly sheathed her arms and gazed up at Fred in embarrassment, her cheeks turning a dark shade of pink.

"Sorry about that," she said.

"It's fine," Fred said, and he gave her a lenient grin. He followed George out of the stadium, leaving Hermione to wait for Ron and Harry.

* * *

><p>The Weasley twins climbed their way back into their dormitory, and as Fred crossed over the threshold, George eagerly pulled him into the room and whispered with excitement in his voice.<p>

"Ask her out, Fred!" George said energetically. "She obviously likes you."

"But why?" Fred said, flopping down onto his bed. "Hermione's a fourth-year!"

George smirked.

"I never said who _she_ was, did I?"

Fred glared at him scornfully, but he knew George could have been talking about anyone else: Angelina Johnson, Parvati Patil, the Ravenclaw ghost. And yet he first thought of Hermione.

"Come on, Fred," George huffed. "Who knows, she could be pretty cool if you get to know her. And when was the last time you heard someone had a crush on you?"

Fred didn't even have to think twice: Never. He was beginning to agree with George. Perhaps he should ask Hermione out. No one would mind, right? He could possibly even keep their relationship on the down-low, since he knew that their liking each other would raise questions almost immediately. Fred would have to do it privately, for having Hermione say "no" to going out with him in front of the entire Gryffindor house would be down-right embarrassing.

Then, "common-sense" snapped him back into reality.

"No, George," Fred stated a tone of finality in his voice. "Now's not the time, alright?"

"Alright, alright," said George. "Why don't we go to the kitchens to nick some food? There ought to be a celebration for Harry's win."

"Yeah, let's go get Lee first," said Fred, and they climbed down the stairs back into the common room. They met Lee at the fireplace and headed out for the portrait hole when Ron and Hermione, who returned from the field, caught them sneaking out.

"Where're you guys going?" asked Ron suspiciously.

"Getting some stuff to celebrate for Harry," George said, pushing on the back of the Fat Lady portrait to let Lee out first.

"What kind of_ stuff_ are you getting?" Hermione questioned.

"Nose out, darling. We're embarking on a dangerous mission here," Fred replied swiftly.

Before either Hermione or Ron could press any more questions, the three sixth-years were already out the door and heading for the kitchens.

"'_Darling?'_ You called her _'darling?'"_ George laughed hysterically.

"Shut up," Fred growled.

"Honestly, Fred, it's all in your head. You can ask out Hermione whenever you want, but unfortunately, you're two _scared!" _said George.

"I'm not scared! I just respect her, that's all," Fred said pointedly.

"Oh my god, this is about that Granger chick, isn't it?" Lee groaned.

"Can we just focus on getting to the kitchens?" Fred said, cutting the conversation short. The three set off to the kitchen hidden behind a painting of a bowl of fruit.

* * *

><p>When Harry appeared through the portrait hole, dishes piled high with snacks and desserts littered tables. Red banners were screened across the room; Filibuster's Fireworks sparked through the air in frenzy. The entire Gryffindor tower was filled with noise and cheer.<p>

"Fred, did you get all this food from the kitchens?" asked Hermione, picking up a pumpkin pasty off a tray.

"Of course!" Fred answered proudly.

"And how exactly did you get in there?" Hermione added calmly.

"Simple really," said Fred. "Concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pair, and it giggles and –" He paused and stared suspiciously at her. "Why?"

"What, are you gonna lead the house-elves in the kitchens on strike?" George snickered. "Gonna stir up a rebellion against the Ministry?"

Everyone near them laughed; even Harry and Ron chortled a fair bit. Hermione eyed each person menacingly. She was sick – revolted at their behavior toward a topic so serious.

"Don't you go upsetting them and telling them they've got to take clothes and salaries!" Fred warned. "You'll put them off their cooking! Hogwarts would probably be hell without house-elves doing all the heavy-lifting!"

Hermione looked even more offended than ever. She stood up and scowled at him with freezing narrow eyes.

"I thought _you_ would at least support me! You could at least _pretend_ to care all this time! I know I have with your stupidity! You make people care, but then you just let them down by making fun of them!" she snapped and stormed off toward the spiral staircase leading to her dormitory.

"Hermione!" Fred called after her. George and Lee's jaws were unhinged in bewilderment.

With a puff of smoke, Neville suddenly transformed into a yellow canary; he twittered madly across the Gryffindor common room as he flew over the heads of the students.

"Yes! They finally worked!" George cried happily. "The Canary Creams worked! Sorry about that, Neville."

Fred felt his stomach churn and his fingers prickle, his own body seeming to want to punish him. His eyes lingered on the foot of the spiral staircase, and then slowly trailed upward, half-wishing to climb up the stairs into the unknown.

But another feeling pierced him in the back, showering Fred in freezing-cold wetness, like sharp swords forged in ice. George had slipped an ice cube down the back of Fred's shirt.

* * *

><p>A couple of days later, Fred spotted Hermione speed-walking through the hallway. He swiftly pulled her to the side as she struggled to wriggle free.<p>

"I haven't talked to you all week," said Fred calmly. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing," said Hermione coldly. "Just working on a lost cause. But, don't mind me. Go on and play with your prank kit with George! Making fools of yourselves is _way_ more important than the fate of an entire magical species, after all."

"Don't pull me and George into this! It's not our fault no one supports S.P.E.W.!" Fred growled.

"You never care, do you?" Hermione snapped. "You always think everything's a joke – that mistakes happen, and you can always clean up your mess up, and everything in the world will be happy! You have no idea how your words and actions can hurt people – people who trust you! I have more important things to think about than your sorry self!"

"And what is so important?!" said Fred in frustration.

"Oh, I don't know, help keep Harry alive?" Hermione hissed, and slid back into the moving crowd.

"Hermione, wait up!" Fred beckoned, trudging through the group of people. He couldn't bear seeing her so angry, especially toward him, of all people.

"Leave me alone, Fred!" Hermione barked, not even looking back. She quickly disappeared into the sea of heads, leaving Fred standing stiff in the hallway.

Fred couldn't believe how much felt over the predicament between him and Hermione. He swore only a few weeks ago they began speaking on a daily basis, as if he meant as much to Hermione as Harry or Ron, and she mean as much to himself as George. It was his sixth-year now, and the only thing Fred had been well-known for was being a trickster alongside his twin. A few times he had been praised for being a beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, but many times the members were upstaged by Harry (Though he wasn't exactly surprised due to his being a seeker). Fred did not want to leave Hogwarts two years from now with Hermione still clearly remembering their argument. She may never even forgive him for leading her on somewhat, and then acting like an ignorant moron toward her, though he didn't want to look like a lost puppy, either.

Fred shuffled off to his next class, his dull eyes still searching for the familiar bushy-haired girl in the crowd.

* * *

><p>"Class, may I have your attention?" said Professor McGonagall over the chattering students. The noises soon died down as everyone's eyes were set on the Transfiguration teacher, though they were restless with the knowledge of the bell ringing at any moment. They had just finished transfiguring guinea fowls into guinea pigs, and they barely had any more attention span left over.<p>

"The Yule Ball is approaching as a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament. See to this event as an opportunity to socialize with our foreign guests. The ball will be open to fourth-years and above – although you may invite a younger student if you wish." Professor McGonagall continued with the explanation of the Yule Ball, captivating everyone's attention.

But, Hermione didn't take the news as a surprise, even though she had completely forgotten about the ball. Fred had told her about it during the Quidditch World Cup. She hadn't given it that much thought until now, when the date was only a month away.

_I could ask Fred to go with me, _Hermione thought. She then quickly crossed him out as a choice. _No, absolutely not! Not right now! I need time away from Fred not_ with _him._

Hermione glanced over at Harry and Ron, but they were deeply whispering to each other about who they were going to ask to the ball.

"I can ask, you know, Cho," said Harry almost inaudibly.

"At least you got an idea who you'll ask," said Ron. "I don't know any girl I would want to go with."

_Thanks, Ron,_ Hermione thought, rolling her eyes.

* * *

><p>"Ah, my favorite fourth-years," George said as he and Fred settled down with Harry and Ron near the Gryffindor fireplace.<p>

"Where's Hermione?" Fred had to ask. He was used to seeing her with Ron and Harry almost 24/7.

"She's in the library," Ron said. "She's been going there an awful lot lately – way more than her standards. Maybe she's trying to take a leaf out of a veela's book to get a date to the ball."

George gave Fred a suggestive look.

"Anyway," Fred told Ron to break the oncoming silence. "Can we borrow Pigwidgeon?"

"No, he's off delivering a letter," Ron said rather suspiciously. "Why?"

"Because George wants to invite him to the ball," Fred said sarcastically.

"Because we want to send a letter, you prat!" George growled.

Hermione entered the common room, silencing the group. She strode to their table with a sincere smile and sat down next to Harry.

"Sorry I'm late," she quickly said, out-of-breath. "I got caught up in the –"

"- library," Harry and Ron said together, making Hermione blush a little.

"You guys got plenty of dates to the ball yet?" asked Fred.

"Nope," Ron sighed.

"You'd better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone," said Fred.

"Oh, really?" Ron said. "Who are you going with, then?"

Ron looked even more curiously toward Fred; Fred even saw Hermione glance up from her opened book. He didn't want to look like a cheat of some sort, but he didn't want to show Hermione he was waiting desperately for her, either. He searched frantically around the common room, and he stopped at the first girl he thought suitable.

"Angelina," Fred said with no hesitation.

"What?" said Ron, taken aback. "You've already asked her?"

"Good point," said Fred. He turned his head and called across the common room, "Oi! Angelina!"

Angelina looked over at him and said, "What?"

"Want to come to the ball with me?"

Angelina stared at Fred as though she were appraising him.

"Sure," she finally answered and returned to her conversation with Alicia Spinnet.

Fred turned back around to face his friends and said to Ron, "See, it's that easy!"

Hermione rose up and gathered her book savagely.

"I'm going back to the library," she scornfully said and stormed off into the portrait hole.

"H-Hermione!" cried Fred hopelessly.

She did not return.

"What was all that about?" Ron asked in confusion.

"Nothing," Fred grumbled. "Girls can be stupid sometimes…"

* * *

><p>Students have been counting the days until Christmas, and the prospect of the Yule Ball had already taken over Hogwarts during the first few weeks. You could never go anywhere without hearing about the ball. Classes had been rather lax, particularly due to everyone's minds being adrift. Fred and George used this workless time to give the first-year Gryffindors a special "Initiation."<p>

The plan was for the first-years to sneak into the kitchens to nick food off the house-elves and return to the twins safely. But, the trick was that they had to venture off at night, when Filch, Mrs. Norris, and other teachers patrolled the dark corridors. Fred and George share their times being caught out-of-bed, and they would like to share their "knowledge" of their mischief to the future stars of Hogwarts.

"Okay, Dennis, you ready?" George asked, patting the brother of Colin Creevey on the back.

"Of course!" Dennis cried energetically.

"Not so loud," Fred warned. "You'll wake the entire tower up." He pushed the back of the portrait open. "Good luck!"

Dennis disappeared into the darkness of the hallway, the remainder of the first-years crowding around the portrait hole, quietly cheering Dennis on.

"You think he'll make it back?" Fred quietly asked George.

"Probably not, "George replied. "I left a few muddy footprints near the kitchen. Filch ought to be cleaning it up by now. Think of it as a challenge for Dennis!"

Faint footsteps sounded off from the girls' staircase. It was Hermione and Ginny, who were speaking cautiously to each other.

"You can't tell me tomorrow?" Ginny yawned.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. It's just that I can't let Ron or Harry know. God knows what Ron would do if he found out," Hermione said apologetically.

"What's this secret you got, Granger?" George asked from across the room.

Hermione narrowed her eyes toward him.

"Just taking a little stroll," she said, though she knew that wasn't the best excuse she could have came up with.

"At midnight?" Fred snickered.

Ignoring Fred, Hermione answered back with a more firm, accusing voice to George.

"And what are you doing with…" – she eyed the children with them menacingly – "with the first-years?"

"Just our way of welcoming them to Hogwarts," George mischievously chuckled.

"A bit late in the year for a welcoming party, isn't it?" said Hermione.

"W-What is it you have to tell me?" Ginny asked Hermione, guiding the conversation to a new topic.

"Oh, right," Hermione replied, and sat across from Ginny at the fireplace.

* * *

><p>Ten or so minutes later, Dennis returned with a handkerchief carrying a few tarts and other small desserts.<p>

"Did I do well?" he asked, handing off his haul to Fred.

"D-Didn't you get caught or something?" Fred asked in surprise.

"Almost. Filch would've gotten me if I didn't throw a tart at a knight statue. It fell into pieces, and the noise bought me enough time to avoid Filch!"

Fred and George looked horrifyingly at each other. But they did have to admit that they were proud of Dennis. With the rest of the first-years still having to go down into the kitchens, they predicted that they would have a mini-feast for the night.

They sent out the first-years one-by-one, until each person added their share to the food pile. They collected a decent amount in the end – enough to feed half of Gryffindor tower.

"I can never get enough of these cakes," a first-year said, their mouth full of food.

Just then, Hermione and Ginny left the fireplace with smiles on their faces. As they got to the foot of the staircase, Fred beckoned to Ginny.

"Hey, Ginny, c'mere!"

She nodded to Hermione, who walked back up the stairs, and strode over to her brothers.

"What were you two talking about?" Fred asked.

"The ball," Ginny said stiffly; it was obvious she wanted to go back to bed.

"What about it?"

"None of your business," Ginny said. "It was just about o-our dates."

Fred raised his eyebrows in curiosity. Had she already found a person to replace him or even make him jealous?

"Who's Hermione going with?" he pressed on.

"Again, Fred, it's none of your business," Ginny said in annoyance.

"Come on, Ginny. You can tell your own brothers!" Fred said openly.

"Who are you going with, then?" George asked.

"Neville," Ginny answered.

"Oh – well, see? Isn't it nice to have gotten that off your chest? Care to tell us who Hermione's going to the ball with?" Fred went on, causing Ginny to get annoyed even more.

"I can't say," Ginny declared, and marched up the spiral staircase back to her dormitory.

"Leave her be, Fred," George snapped.

"Which one?" said Fred.

"Well, both of them!" said George. "You're going to the ball with _Angelina,_ not Hermione. Think of getting to know your actual date instead of a girl who already fancies someone else."

"But, you just said a few days ago –"

However, George was right. Fred_ had_ to stop thinking about Hermione. She was with someone else, whoever that person was. But the thought of someone wanting Hermione as much as him boggled his mind. He had never seen anyone look to her as a crush – not even Ron or Harry, who had known her since their first years. But, why would she find a new date to the ball so soon? Fred had to admit, however, that he would be pretty shocked to see Hermione show up to the ball with a more charming boy with her.


	7. If Cats could Talk

_**Author Note:** *sighs* Oh, Fred..._

_Anyways, this chapter has been beta read by **KittyCat809!**_

* * *

><p>The next morning Fred and George had slept in later than usual due to their little plan last night and were nearly late for breakfast. The Great Hall was almost full, but what made the room seem eerie was the lack of the first-year Gryffindors; though business went on as usual, with Ron devouring as much food as he could before the bell rang.<p>

Professor McGonagall walked over to the Weasley twins with a grave expression on her face.

"Weasleys, may I have a word with you two?" she said ominously.

"Er – yeah," the twins said hesitantly.

Professor McGonagall guided them out of the Great Hall and into the hospital wing, stoically silent the entire way. As Madame Pomfrey opened the door for them, Fred saw the familiar group of first-years, but they were lying down on the hospital beds still as a rock. Professor McGonagall motioned the twins closer to the bed of Dennis Creevey before she began talking in a hoarse voice.

"Why are these children ill?" Her tone gave away the fact that she knew the answer already.

"They must've gotten sick overnight," said George confidently. "It_ is_ getting colder – winter's approaching."

"Yes, but Mr. Creevey had told Madame Pomfrey that it must've been something he ate last night," Professor McGonagall continued.

"And the most important thing he told me was that Fred and George Weasley were the ones responsible!" Madame Pomfrey barked as she left a glass of water on Dennis's bedside table.

'_Dammit! That prat ratted us out__!' _Fred thought.

"Now, what happened to them, Mr. Weasleys?" Professor McGonagall said, her lips thinning. She then added as they opened their mouths to speak, "Or should I call Professor Snape down here with a truth potion?"

"Th-They got into our bag of sweets, Professor," Fred lied quickly.

"The sweets were poisoned to make sure no one took them!" said George, following along. "They shouldn't have been snooping around our stuff, after all –"

"Y-You poisoned food?" she gasped. "And you just left it out in the open?"

"Um –"

"Having first-years stealing from you is not a justifiable reason to poison food that anyone can pick up!" Professor McGonagall barked. "You two should have came to a teacher so they could deal with the situation instead of taking matters into your own hands! These children could have been seriously injured if it weren't for Madame Pomfrey! Thirty points from Gryffindor _each!_ And you two will be serving detention with –"

"I believe Argus needs someone to help clean the hallways near the kitchens," Madame Pomfrey told McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall nodded to the twins.

"Then it is settled. You will be serving detention with Mr. Filch tomorrow and for the rest of the week. I expect better behavior from now on."

"Yes, Professor," Fred and George said at once. They spun on their heels and quickly left the hospital wing grumbling to themselves.

* * *

><p>At six o' clock at night the next day, Fred and George forced themselves to meet up with Filch near the painting leading to the kitchens. All over the place were muddy footprints and a pile of metal, which looked to once have been a mighty suit of armor. It must have been the statue Dennis broke to create a distraction.<p>

Filch gave the twins an ice-cold stare, as did Mrs. Norris, the cat.

"Well, well, look who's in trouble again," he said bitterly. He walked over to a water bucket with two mops sticking out of it, and he slid it toward them. "Start cleaning unless you want to stay out here all night." he said, and started hobbling off with Mrs. Norris at his heels.

"You're just gonna leave us here all alone?" George said to Filch.

Filch slowly turned around and gave him a horrifying scowl.

"Of course not! I'll be back, don't worry. Mrs. Norris can look after you two buffoons." Filch looked down at his cat, which let out a low hiss of disappointment. Filch sulked off and disappeared around the corner; Mrs. Norris continued staring pitilessly at the Weasley twins like a watchdog.

Fred took a mop from the bucket and began wiping the floor lazily.

"We could be off working on that Extendable Ear prototype right now, but _no!_ We have to spend the night with _Filch!"_ he groaned in a low tone.

"Not even Filch," said George, taking a mop. "Just Mrs. Norris."

The cat hissed at his remark, its bright eyes boring into them.

"Well," said George as he mopped the floor. "I don't think there'll be another initiation anytime soon."

George's eyes suddenly brightened.

"You know what would be cool?" he said excitedly.

"What?" Fred said.

"I bet Filch hasn't seen a dungbomb in ages," George said mischievously, "and I think we still have a pack of them upstairs."

"Are you saying we should initiate Plan H?" said Fred smiling.

There was a meow and the soft pitter-patter of feet.

Fred and George turned to see Mrs. Norris scampering down the hallway.

"She's after Filch!" Fred cried, and he dashed after the cat with George at his heels.

They chased Mrs. Norris down corridors and back up them. The twins dodged groups of people, efficiently keeping their eyes on the cat's flicking tail. They stepped on people's toes and shoved a group of Ravenclaws aside with no care in the world. They would rather stub a little boy's pinkie-toe than let Mrs. Norris report back to Filch about their plan.

A Hufflepuff boy and girl exited the trophy room down the corridor. Before the door could be slammed shut, Mrs. Norris slipped through the crack in the door. The twins pried the door back open and stopped in their tracks in front of a trophy shelf.

Mrs. Norris was sitting atop the shelf, hanging around cautiously near a poorly mounted shield. Every time she brushed her tail against the shield, it wobbled dangerously on its stand.

"No no no, she's gonna make such a racket!" George said worriedly.

Like how he was with Crookshanks, Fred reached toward Mrs. Norris with a welcoming hand.

"Mrs. Norris, _please _come down," he said calmly.

But all she did was give a hiss of defiance. She pawed at the shield's back, making it topple over toward the polished floor. Fred luckily caught it inches from the tiles below; he let out a sigh of relief. Mrs. Norris bounded down the shelf and plodded over to the door. However, she found it quite impossible to open the door by herself. She scratched at the door, hoping against hope that it would somehow magically open.

"Oh, no you don't!" George yowled and grabbed Mrs. Norris by the scruff; she wailed and hissed, claws outstretched, prepared to slash at any inch of flesh close to her.

"Alright . . . let's hope this works," he said. He pointed his wand at Mrs. Norris and cried, _"Obliviate."_

The cat's hisses and yowls were suppressed to confused mews. Her aggressive clawing completely disappeared in exchange for weak, limp limbs.

"You think spells work on cats?" asked Fred, completely out of breath.

"Probably," said George. He carefully placed Mrs. Norris back on the ground. "We'll just have to see what happens."

George opened the door for Mrs. Norris, who scampered off into the darkness.

They returned to the kitchen painting, where their mess was left as how it was before. One thing different was Filch was standing beside the mop bucket with boundless frustration on his face – you could see smoke fuming from his ears.

"Where were you?" he pressed on, sending spit across the wet floor. Mrs. Norris was sitting beside his feet, her bright eyes sending shivers down the twins' backs.

"We were off finding Mrs. Norris," Fred explained with panic in his voice.

"_Finding?"_ Filch scoffed. "More like _chasing!_ Mrs. Norris told me everything!"

_Of course,_ Fred thought rolling his eyes, _Why wouldn't he talk to his cat?_

"You two just bought yourselves another week of detention! If the punishments were up to me, you would be hanging from the ceiling by your feet right now, but _no._ Dumbledore's all soft on you idiots! Hogwarts really deserves a stricter headmaster –"

"Thanks for that wonderful rant, but me and George have lives to get back to, so –"

"No, you two aren't going anywhere until you clean up your little mess here!" Filch hissed disdainfully.

"Yes, sir," Fred and George replied in monotone voices.

* * *

><p>For two weeks, the twins had to do Filch's dirty work and mop, polish, and sweep the floors of Hogwarts. At six o' clock each night, they were to report to Filch's office to be told what to clean that night. Mrs. Norris during their detentions occasionally gave the twins more work by leaving dirty paw prints or even leaving cat droppings, much to their disgust. And Filch was never sympathetic or even dared to control the actions of his cat. Fred and George were never allowed to leave until their faces reflected off the floors like glass. And once they <em>did<em> get Filch's approval of the floors, they returned to Gryffindor tower with aching joints and heavy eyes.

"I can't take anymore cleaning!" Fred groaned at the Gryffindor table.

"I'm sick of cleaning products," George added, massaging his own arm.

"At least it's your guys' last day in detention," said Alicia Spinnet encouragingly.

Angelina growled, "Yeah, and be grateful there's no Quidditch this year, or you'll really pay for all the time you've spent in detention when you could have been practicing with the team!"

"Ah, just what I needed to start my day: An unneeded amount of nagging," Fred said and bit viciously into an apple, picturing it to be Mrs. Norris's head.

Just then, the hooting of owls brought the table's attention upward. The ceiling was blocked by the mix of brown and tawny and white, all scanning the tables for their students. The owls one-by-one swooped down and dropped their parcels into people's laps and flew off for the Owlery.

A screech owl with a band on its leg engraved with the words "Property of Hogwarts" dove past the twins, dropping a letter in front of Fred.

Fred and George gazed at the letter in disbelief.

"He actually replied for once!" Fred cried happily; he tore through the envelope and ran his eyes over the writing on the parchment.

"Who's it from?" said Alicia.

"Ludo Bagman," said George.

"Wait, why?" Angelina asked in confusion.

"During the World Cup, Bagman bet us a crap-load of gold that Ireland wouldn't win. Ireland did win, though, so he gave us a whole pile of coins, but all the money was the leprechaun gold from the Quidditch stadium that vanished the next day. We've been trying to contact him all year, but he never replied –"

"Until now!" cried Fred with glee. He nudged George. "Listen here:

"_Dear Fred and George Weasley,_

_Thank you for your letter, but I am afraid a deal's a deal. You should have known well that we were betting GOLD, not any Wizarding currency; therefore, I am not responsible for your loss of wealth. Plus, you two are also underage, making betting highly discouraged for boys your age. I hope you all at Hogwarts have a happy Christmas this week, and I would be delighted to see you two return to the next Quidditch World Cup!_

_Signed,_

_Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."_

"Oh my god, that – OW!" At the nick-of-time, Alicia kicked at George's foot underneath the table to stop him from saying anything rash, for Professor Sprout was passing by on her way to the staff table.

Fred grimaced. "That prat! He just doesn't want to give up his money!"

"Wait a minute!" Angelina said in astonishment. "Are you saying that you two made a bet with _the_ Ludo Bagman?"

"Well, yeah. I thought we made that clear a few seconds ago," George said, shrugging.

"Are you two idiots? You two could have lost all your money if Ireland lost!" she said.

"But we _did_ win the bet, though!" Fred refuted. "We won fair-and-square, and we deserve the gold! He needs to stop being such a git and accept defeat!"

Angelina sighed and crossed her arms.

"Whatever, go ahead and persecute Bagman. He's coming here for the Second Task, anyway."

Hermione, Ron, and Harry entered the Great Hall and sat at their usual spots at the Gryffindor table. Fred couldn't help but watch Hermione from the corner of his eye, and, unknowingly to him, Hermione was doing the same.

Patricia Stimpson, another sixth-year, tapped the twins on their shoulders.

"I think Lee wants you," she said and pointed to the threshold, where Lee Jordan was leaning against the oak door, waving furiously toward them.

"Alright, let's go. Thanks, Trish," George said and stood up and went over to Lee.

Fred rose up and then remembered Hermione was in the room. He leaned over the table and planted an awkward kiss on Angelina's forehead, who immediately retaliated by slapping him away and yelling, "Why the hell would you do that – oh, yeah . . . the ball . . . right."

Fred didn't look to see Hermione's reaction at all; he sprinted off to go follow Lee and George with an amused grin on his face.

* * *

><p>"Hey, wake up, you bum!" yelled George. He threw a pillow at Fred's face, hitting his target square-on.<p>

Fred jolted awake and quickly hurled the pillow back to his brother. He peered down at the floor and saw a pile of presents at the foot of his bed, all wrapped and trimmed delicately for the holidays.

"Happy Christmas, George, Lee!" Fred cried, and he reached down to unwrap the present on top of the pile.

"A sweater. Of course," chuckled Fred, holding up a handmade sweater with the letter F embroidered on the front. He proceeded to take off his pajama shirt and fit on the sweater from his mother.

"Got one too, as always," said George, wriggling into his own sweater. "What stuff did you get, Lee?"

"Let's see . . . some Chocolate Frogs, sugar quills, a Quidditch through the Ages book – dunno why I got that. I don't even play Quidditch! Anyway . . . some clothes, a few muggle comic books, and a drawing of the family from lil' sis," Lee said.

"Already opened 'em all, I see," George said.

"I couldn't help myself," Lee sighed, unwrapping a Chocolate Frog.

Fred's Christmas haul was plentiful this year: He received the sweater and a box of cookies (With a note complaining about how he should watch his back when he tries to steal more cookies again) from home, a single half-broken sugar quill from Ron (_pathetic, _Fred thought), a guide to dragons from Charlie (Charlie had been dropping hints that he had been looking for a new apprentice in Romania), money from Bill, a toy Beater from Angelina, a new set of fireworks from Lee, a new quill and parchment from Ginny, and two packs of Every Flavor Beans from Alicia.

There were no classes for the entire week, so Fred and George spent the Christmas day hanging out with Harry, Ron, Ginny . . . and Hermione.

The six used a courtyard as a battlefield. Fresh snow blanketed the area, which made an excellent snowball fight arena. They spent hours just hurling snowballs at each other and then drinking hot cocoa and enjoying each other's company. Everything seemed so perfect, so peaceful, so happy that no one could think of another Christmas day better spent –

"Gotta go get ready for the ball," Hermione quickly explained, and ran for the staircase into the school.

"It's five o' clock! D'you really need three hours to get ready?" Ron shouted before being pelted at the side of the head by one of George's snowballs. He fumbled through the snow and trudged on to follow Hermione. "Who are you going to the ball with?" he called out desperately.

While George, Harry, and Ginny were busy bombarding Ron with snowballs to the back, Fred slid away from the group and followed Hermione up the stairs. He pulled her aside and stared at her with worrisome eyes.

"Who_ are_ you going to the ball with?" he mumbled shyly.

"It's none of your or Ron's business," Hermione firmly stated. "And why would you care? Shouldn't you be snogging Angelina or something?"

"Hey," Fred said in a serious tone. "I don't like Angelina like that. She gets too strict and bossy and – " He decided to stop there as he watched Hermione's facial expressions contort into hurt and betrayal, piecing together that he was describing Angelina with the characteristics negatively given to Hermione over the years. "I'm serious, Hermione," Fred finally said desperately. _"Please_ tell me."

Hermione didn't answer for what seemed like hours. She seemed to just stand there on the staircase and appraise him. But then she finally spoke with a solemn head shake.

"I'm sorry, Fred, but no. You'll just have to find out during the ball like everyone else." She climbed the stairs, but stopped at the top. "And Angelina really is a nice girl. You just have to treat her right. Don't let someone you cherish run off, okay?" She left.

Fred reached out as she disappeared into the school, longing to feel her palm against his, but her hand was long gone, and she wasn't looking back. How could he let her run off when she was the one he cherished? He gazed up at the top of the staircase, expecting her to come back and cry out "Just kidding!" but that never happened.

_I try,_ _Hermione_, he thought, _I really do._


	8. The Yule Ball

It was nearly eight o' clock. Fred, George, and Lee trooped down the boys' staircase in their sharp suits, which stood out from everyone's "1800's get-up", in the words of Lee.

When they got to the common room, Ron, in his _1600's_ get-up, confronted Fred and George with dismay.

"H-How did you afford suits?!" he gasped.

"We know a guy," Fred and George answered, and set off to meet their dates.

Angelina was wearing a silky, light-purple dress that came to her knees. Fred was baffled at how beautiful she was when she wasn't wearing wizard robes or Quidditch gear. Her hair was down too, which made her look completely different – in a good way. But Fred couldn't help but not feel attracted to someone so gorgeous.

"Is my wonderful lady ready to depart?" asked Fred, lending an arm to Angelina.

"Well, look who's looking dashing," she giggled; she gladly took his arm.

George walked up to Alicia and bowed. "We've got no dates, so. . . ."

"Oh, fine!" Alicia groaned, but her grin was honest.

Fred and Angelina set off for the portrait hole with George and Alicia (Lee was confronting Katie Bell just now to hopefully score a last-minute date).

They got to the entrance of the Great Hall; many people were already crowding around in the entrance hall, waiting anxiously for the start of the Yule Ball.

The entrance doors opened, and the Champions filed in with their dates beside them. First, it was Fleur Delacour with Roger Davies. Then, it was Cedric Diggory with Cho Chang. Third came Harry and Parvati Patil (Harry seemed incredibly nervous). And lastly was Viktor Krum and –

"Is that Hermione Granger?" Angelina gasped, dumbfounded. "Look, Fred!"

Fred looked over the crowd and spotted her familiar face. She didn't have bushy hair – no, it was replaced with lovely brown curls that were put in a tight ponytail on her head. She wore a soft-blue dress and there seemed to be a spotlight on her.

Fred's heart twisted and shattered. The world seemed to dim and crumble beneath him. Viktor Krum. So, there _was _someone better out there after Hermione. But how could Fred have known? Fred had been treating Hermione as if she were the Dark Lord – no. _She _was treating Fred like He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Why should Fred care for a person who had only hurt him and threw his way of showing affection away? The past was the past, and why should he chase a person who had already gave her love to someone else? Everything Fred had thought of Hermione before seemed to dissolve completely and drain away into the void. He felt so weak and hopeless. He could only think about what he did to make Hermione hate him. Then, he thought of one thing to keep him sane.

_If she wanted to make me jealous, then I guess she did well. But it's my turn now,_ Fred thought, and as the Great Hall doors opened, along with the restless students, he led Angelina inside with not a single backwards glance at Hermione. Though, when he knew she saw him, he could feel his limbs trying to give way, his own body shaking, and his eyes watering.

The Great Hall was decorated with silver and white and light-blue. Round tables covered with white blankets were set with elegant place settings. The staff table was also set with a long, white blanket; the teachers, including Madame Maxime and Headmaster Karkaroff, were all well-dressed and elated to see all the students.

The Gryffindor sixth-years sat at their own round table. Fred stared across the hall to see the Champions sitting at the staff table with their dates. Hermione and Krum were laughing, smiling, enjoying each other's company. Oh, how happy they were.

"Fred, are you okay?" Angelina asked in concern. "You seem out of it."

Fred looked back at his own table. Everyone was staring at him with looks of worry.

"I'm fine," he breathed, though he was incredibly nervous during the meal of the night.

Dumbledore gave a speech, introducing the Yule Ball, and let the students have dinner. Angelina, Alicia, George, and Lee were the lives of the conversations. They talked and made fun of everything that came to their minds, laughing louder than all the other tables put together, much to the teachers' dislikes. Countless times did Professor McGonagall come to their table to ask them to quiet down; though they never did a good job listening to McGonagall's orders, until Professor Snape swooped in (With what looked like his everyday school attire) and threatened to make sure there would be a strange substance in their pumpkin juice next morning if they did not keep it down.

Dumbledore repeatedly tapped a spoon against a wine glass – the students quieted down.

"I believe it is time for the first dance of the night." He glanced at each Champion. "If our Champions would kindly meet on the dance floor."

The four Champions and their partners made their way down to the spacious floor, where each table had a wonderful view of the action. The couples took each other's hands and, as the soft, calming music started playing, they began swaying and stepping to the melody. Poor Harry seemed to have no idea how to dance; Parvati, his dance partner, was steering the clueless Champion to make it seem like he knew what he was doing. It made Fred snicker to watch Harry step on Parvati's feet every now and then.

Fleur and Roger Davies, and Cedric and Cho were naturals. It couldn't have been their first times dancing at a formal event.

And then there was Hermione and Krum, who seemed to be in the middle of the spectrum. They weren't horrible, but they weren't perfect, either. Every now-and-then, Hermione or Krum would stumble a bit, smile cheerfully at each other, and then continue on with their dance as if nothing mattered but the two of them.

A few moments had passed, and Fred grew agitated over watching Hermione and Krum ogle over each other; so, he grabbed ahold of Angelina's hand, stood up, and bowed.

"May I have this dance?" he asked courteously.

"Most certainly," Angelina said, initiating a curtsey.

Fred guided her to the dance floor and placed a hand on her waist and his other calmly gripping the hand that she didn't have on his shoulder. They started with a simple revolution in one spot, like how the Champions were dancing like, except, to Fred, he and Angelina seemed to take the entire thing as a joke, taking turns steering and spinning each other around, which made George sigh in embarrassment on the sidelines.

Now, everyone was up and dancing; Fred took the large crowd as a slight advantage to kick things up a notch.

He whispered into Angelina's ear, "Follow my lead."

"Wait, what –"

Fred transformed his dance routine from a slow waltz to a sloppy tango or samba or whatever Muggles called it. Angelina could barely keep up with his quick footsteps, barely dodging romantic couples as he whirled her around tightly in senseless directions. They almost knocked Ginny and Neville over – oh, there goes Dean Thom – Sorry for elbowing you, Pansy! One train wreck after another. Fred could feel the gazes of people fall down upon him and Angelina. And to top it all off, right then and there, Fred moved her so sharply to the left that she slipped on the smooth floor, causing her to tumble over and onto the ground, taking Fred with her. They laid there laughing hysterically at their own fault, cupping the body parts that were bruised. Fred helped Angelina get back onto her feet, and he scanned the area quickly for Hermione. She wasn't watching them. She wasn't even on the dance floor anymore. She was seated with Krum at their table, deep in conversation and laughing and smiling together. A bruised arm for nothing but prudent glowers from the Hogwarts staff.

"I think I'm done dancing for now. Thanks for the . . . lovely dance, Fred," Angelina huffed, out of breath, and walked away to meet Alicia at the punch bowl.

Now that he was alone, Fred couldn't help but hang his head and admit to himself that he felt utterly –

George came over with two cups of punch.

"You okay, mate?" he asked, handing Fred a cup, which he gladly accepted.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Fred mumbled, feeling his heartbeat quicken. He took a sip of punch, hoping to douse the flame burning in his heart.

"It's about Hermione, isn't it?" George said in a serious tone. "You've been sneaking glances to her and Krum, I've seen."

Fred sighed in defeat, "I have, but it doesn't matter, really. Angelina and I are having a blast."

George chuckled, "Yeah, I saw your slick moves. Anyway, Bagman's over there all alone. We could talk to him about the letter."

Fred nodded and followed George to Ludo Bagman, who was peacefully drinking his tea at the staff table.

"Greetings, Mr. Bagman," George said and clapped the man on the back.

"Oh – good evening," said Bagman, choking on his tea. "You must be the Weasleys."

"Correct, sir," George replied. "So, mind if we talk about the letter you have sent us a few days ago?"

"Sorry, must have slipped my mind, but what letter, exactly?" Bagman asked in a shaking voice.

"About our Quidditch bet winnings," said Fred, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, oh yes." Bagman cleared his throat. "Yes, I remember now. I thought I made myself clear when I wrote you two back, though."

"You certainly did, but sir, please reconsider," said George.

"No, no, my decision is final," Bagman quickly stated, frowning at the twins.

"Fine, then," Fred said. "Could we at least talk about our fake wands? It could be a really popular product if you get behind it."

Bagman frantically searched the room and stopped when he caught sight of Harry, who had been abandoned by Parvati.

"I do believe I have some Triwizard business to attend to. You know, make sure no Champions require assistance." He stood up and drained his teacup.

"But, sir, it's the Yule Ball. Shouldn't you sit down and enjoy the party?" George said concernedly.

"Really, boys, no thanks. I'll see you two some other time, then," Bagman said, and hurried off to intercept Harry near the hors d'oeuvres.

A lost deal and a lost girl. Could this night get any worse for Fred? He retreated to one of the round tables in silence, watching the happy couples with no worry in their hearts, enjoy the ball. The Weird Sisters, the band playing for the event, was now playing a quick-paced tune, sending people into wild fits. A few times Angelina came to Fred asking if he would like to dance and if he were alright, but he would always reply with a simple "I'm fine", sending her away in disappointment.

Oh no, there was hurt in Angelina's eyes. Fred could never confront a person he cared about without leaving them in pain. He wanted Hermione badly, and seeing another person give her all the affection she deserved made him feel useless and tossed away, as if he only existed as a reason for Hermione to love Krum more.

* * *

><p>The end of the Yule Ball was nearing, and Hermione and Krum departed relatively early – the Durmstrang students were also leaving as a group. People were casting them curious, suggestive glances and smirks as they passed by, until Krum took Hermione's hand and kissed it, leaving the people's suggestive thoughts from becoming true. They said goodbye to each other, and Krum walked off with his Durmstrang colleagues to their living quarters for the night. Hermione waited a minute or two, watching him from the main door before she was confronted by Ron, who began yelling at her. Fred couldn't tell what his idiot brother was saying because he was so far away from them.<p>

All of a sudden, Hermione ran away from Ron and down the hallway in tears.

Fred whispered to George, "I'll be right back. I have something I need to do."

George raised an eyebrow as if saying "But we always do things together." Eventually, George nodded and joined Lee, Angelina, and Alicia on the dance floor.

Fred exited the Great Hall and went the direction Hermione went down the hallway. He eventually came to a courtyard, where Hermione was crouched down on the stone staircase, sniffling and staring up at the night sky. Her body was trembling, and Fred's heart felt so empty and incomplete.

"Hermione –"

"Are you here to rant, or are you here to pretend I have no feelings? Because why don't you get a house-elf to listen to you instead of me?" hissed Hermione, and she resumed weeping.

Fred sat down on the stone steps next to her and took a deep breath. One . . . two . . . three . . . and the words tumbled out.

"Hermione, I'm sorry for everything I have done to you. I made you care, and I destroyed all the trust and friendship we had. Now, I'm the one who is suffering, but I guess that is fair. After all, an eye for an eye, right? I mean, Mad-Eye Moody's a prime example!" – Hermione chuckled weakly – "I am happy about you and Krum, but know this: Krum doesn't deserve one bit of you. No, I don't think he has any idea how lucky he is to love a girl like you. You're smart, witty, childish at times, and formal. You can spend an hour talking about the most boring thing, and I could still fall in love with each word you say. Each day with you is always an honor, and I hope you and Krum are –"

"S – Say no more," Hermione interrupted, and pulled Fred into the tightest hug she could manage. She seemed to be holding onto him for dear life – as if once she were to break away she would be alone in pitch-black darkness once again.

"Well, that speech before – you know – that one . . . was your Christmas present," Fred said. "Well, without all the Krum stuff."

Hermione froze there, not looking at Fred, nor was she looking at the ground. She seemed to be staring at a point off in the distance; but slowly but surely, she wrapped her arms around Fred again – the warm fluffiness he was feeling before returned again. Without being distracted, he could now smell the lovely perfume on Hermione.

"Thank you, Fred," Hermione whispered over his shoulder. "No one . . . No one has ever talked about me like that. I appreciate every word of that speech. I cannot tell you how important that was to hear. And" – Hermione unwrapped Fred – "I'm sorry for snapping at you for something as silly as house-elves. . . ."

"It wasn't silly at all!"

"Okay, but I should've just talked to you about it instead of blocking you out completely," Hermione mumbled, struggling to contain her tears.

"And I'm sorry for not thinking about you. . . ." murmured Fred more quietly. It was obvious that he wasn't used to being so sensitive.

Overwhelmed by his sudden sensuality, Hermione let out a few moments of silence fall over them. She was debating whether to run away or cling onto Fred for hours. Whatever happened, though, she didn't want to let him slip away again.

"Fred," she whispered gently. "I . . . I . . . I. . . ."

Fred looked at her with utter interest, captivated by each stuttered word.

Hermione said with half regret, "I think we should go back to our dormitories."

They walked back up to Gryffindor tower in silence, wading in the comforts of each other. It was only a month long that they were scathingly disgusted of each other and ignoring each other's presence, but now that they were back – _more_ than back to the way things were, it seemed like an eternity wrapped in an enigma of doubts.

They climbed through the portrait hole; a few people were still in the common room obsessing over the now-finished Yule Ball. Fred and Hermione went to the front of the girls' staircase, where they pulled each other into an embrace, with no care in the world of who watched. They could feel people's eyes fall on them, but what mattered to them now were each other, and this was all new to them, particularly to Fred. Hermione felt him shivering and even hesitating to simply caress her back. Who knew the outgoing, loud, and obnoxious Weasley would succumb to the prospect of amorousness?

They pulled apart and gazed at each other's eyes. Fred was prepared to lean in, but Hermione was just standing there, just looking at him. Why wasn't she leaning in?

"Good night, darling," Fred said softly, hiding his slight heartbreak.

"Good night, Fred," mumbled Hermione. She let go of his hand and hesitantly climbed the staircase upward.

"We make a great team, you know," said Fred.

Hermione turned around and smiled, shaking her head.

"I guess we do, don't we?" she said. "I . . . I highly-like you." She gave Fred a shy, embarrassed grin.

Fred chuckled, "I highly-like you, too." Hermione giggled and disappeared up the staircase.

Fred made his way up to his own dormitory, where he plopped down onto his four-poster. He would have changed to his sleeping clothes, but Hermione's sweet perfume still lingered on his suit.

"Hey, Fred," George said. "Where'd you go?"

"Oh, nowhere important," said Fred. "Just needed some fresh air, that's all."

They all soon went to bed with the Yule Ball still on their minds. Fred, however, fell into a deep slumber, dreaming about Hermione's smile and Hermione's laugh and Hermione's hugs and Hermione's . . . But he had to admit to himself that he was quite disappointed that he wasn't able to kiss his darling goodnight.


	9. Accio Hermione

_**Author's Note: **Sorry for the kind-of late update. I was on vacation before school, and the trip took longer than expected, and then...you know...school. But hopefully I'll be back in the swing of things._

_This chapter has been beta read by **KittyCat809.**_

* * *

><p>Fred and Hermione did a wonderful job keeping their relationship a secret from everyone, even if it weren't exactly intentional for such privacy. They were able to talk freely in public when Harry, Ron, and George were around, but they spent time alone by taking private strolls on the school grounds, and each night they stayed up for hours in the Gryffindor common room just talking, and that seemed to be enough for both of them.<p>

Their secrecy went on for nearly the remainder of the Christmas holidays, until one afternoon, when Hermione agreed on helping Fred study Charms.

"Are you sure George and Lee won't come back any time soon?" Hermione asked worriedly as she closed Fred's dormitory door shut.

"Yeah, I'm positive. George and Lee are downstairs eating dinner with the other Gryffindors. If I know them well, they wouldn't come back up. Ron _had _to get his love for food from somewhere, after all," Fred said. He lay down on his bed, stomach to the mattress, and Hermione settled down next to him.

"Alright . . . what spells do you have most trouble with?" asked Hermione, propping open _Achievements in Charming._

"Hm," Fred pondered aloud. "How about that _Accio _spell?"

Hermione looked at Fred, puzzled.

"You need help on _that?"_

"Is there a problem, then?" Fred said with raised eyebrows.

Hermione was on the verge of backing out of the predicament, but, seeing that it was Fred she was talking to, she succumbed to her polite conscience.

"Get off your stomach and sit up, then," she instructed, brandishing her wand.

Fred did as he was told and sat up on his four-poster, looking from the textbook propped open to Hermione. He took out his wand as well, and began twirling it around carelessly between his fingers, in which seemed to annoy Hermione a little bit.

"Now, say _'Accio'_ very clearly, and complete this exact wand movement," she explained, and pointed at a diagram in the book. She rolled up her sleeves, and with a quick flick of her wand, she said, _"Accio Scarf,"_ and Lee's red-and-gold scarf soared off his nightstand and shot toward Hermione, in which she caught.

"Pretty simple, really," Hermione said, setting down the Gryffindor scarf on the bed. "Now you try."

Fred simply nodded, raised his wand, and cried out, _"A-Accio Ink Bottle!"_

An ink bottle on top of George's chest wobbled furiously, as if it were preparing to spring off, until it hurtled to the ground, shattering into small pieces of glass, and now waded in a small pool of black substance.

A smile was woven on Fred's face, but as he looked over at Hermione, the smile vanished completely to be left with a frozen, cowering appearance.

"Fred – Weasley," Hermione jeered, her voice rising and intensifying with each word, "of all the other objects you could have tried to charm you pick an _ink bottle!_ Why an ink bottle? Why not a soft, fluffy pillow or something? Honestly, Fred, use your brain for once!"

She pointed her wand at the black spot on the floor and said severely, _"Scourgify."_

A cloud of bubbles formed on the ink spot, and it began to disappear, as if invisible mops and sponges were scrubbing down the surface.

Hermione continued to scowl at Fred, with no sign of remorse.

"_Really?"_ she said. "Now I – I mean, _you _have to buy George another ink bottle!"

"Darling, why can't you just fix the ink bottle?"

Hermione sighed exasperatingly, "Magic doesn't work like that, Fred. Honestly, I thought _you _would know that at the least. You have been around magic since the day you were born, for crying out loud!"

Fred looked at her with cruelty.

"What are you saying, that I'm bad at magic?"

Hermione's eyes widened at the sudden realization of what was happening.

"No, I didn't mean it like that. What I meant to say is that . . . it's kind of basic spells and charms. Just about everyone knows the basic rules of magic." Hermione's voice trailed off, and she slid off the four-poster and edged toward the door. "I . . . I just remembered that Harry and Ron wanted me to go to . . . to Hagrid's with them. You can borrow my books if you want . . . y'know, to study." She shuffled toward the door, but an unexpected and sharp voice cried out from behind her.

"_Accio Hermione!"_

Hermione felt as if someone had grabbed the back of her collar and started dragging her backward. She tried to plant her feet down, but all her effort did was make scuffling sounds on the wooden floor. She toppled over onto the bed; the invisible hand kept on tugging her closer and closer to the wand that conjured the spell, until she was pulled so close to Fred that she was nose-to-nose with him, her chest and hands pulled so close to his own.

"H-How did you do that?" Hermione gaped, her eyes wide. "Summoning charms rarely work on humans."

Fred gave her a malicious smirk. "I guess I'm more skilled than you think. Just because I'm a troublemaker doesn't mean I'm not intelligent."

He tilted his head, and he closed his eyes. He took in the moment for a few moments. . . . Never before had he felt so exhilarated and nervous. . . . Never before had he felt the strange butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. . . . Hermione was so calm, Fred's hands wrapped around hers. . . . It was as if she knew that this moment was coming. . . . Her coolness made Fred feel like he paled in comparison to her. He was frightened – extremely frightened. It took all his strength not to tremble whilst Hermione was so close to him right now. Scenarios of moments like these being interrupted or ruined kept on popping into his head. His heart was beating so fast as he let one more second pass.

Finally, he threw caution into the wind and leaned in.

The dormitory door swung open, revealing George and Lee at the threshold. Fred opened his eyes and caught sight of the last two people he wanted in the dorm. He stopped himself from leaning in any closer, locked in position, in which he was only millimeters away from Hermione.

Hermione pulled herself out of her trance and gazed over at George and Lee as well, her face becoming a deep shade of red as she did so.

George and Lee, like Fred, were frozen on the spot. All they could do was bounce their gaze from Fred to Hermione and back again, eyes moving as if they were watching an intense Quidditch match.

"I – I – I can't believe it," Lee gasped, dumbfounded. He pointed at Fred, "You" – he pointed at Hermione – "her" – he let his arms hang loose at his sides – "are . . . a couple?"

Fred and Hermione said nothing. She shrunk on the spot, staring down, hiding the embarrassment on her face. Fred shot George and Lee freezing-cold glowers, his blood boiling. Why did they have to come back to the dormitory? Of all the times they could have returned, they chose to come upstairs when he and Hermione were spending time together!

George immediately bolted back down the stairs with no other word. Fred instinctively hopped off his bed and sprinted after his twin. He climbed the stairs down, and noticed George already climbing through the portrait hole out of the common room.

"You stop right there!" Fred yelled after him, dashing across the room and into the portrait hole.

George crawled out of the opening, and as he stumbled out, he made a mad dash for the entrance hall. Fred bolted after him, swerving through the packs of students as he locked his sights on his red-headed doppelganger.

As they turned sharp corners and bolted across corridors and launched past individuals, the windows framing the setting sun zoomed past them as blurs, one looking oddly like a big, black bat.

George turned another corner and slipped into a room that had large oak doors standing open and sentinel. Fred finally realized why George had returned to the Great Hall. George was already halfway to where their friends were sitting at the table crying out, "I win the bet! I win the bet!"

Fred pointed his wand at his twin, wondering why he, Fred, hadn't thought of doing this sooner, and shouted, _"Immobulus!"_

George froze on the spot for a second, suspended in the air as if time had stopped, and then he dropped to the ground as a heap on the floor.

Fred felt countless pairs of eyes on his immobilized brother, and one-by-one the gazes rose from the moaning body to Fred's red-cheeked face. No teachers were at the staff table thankfully, so the threat of being trapped in detention fell away from Fred's shoulders. He had to wonder, however, where the teachers were. It was dinnertime, after all.

He stormed across the aisle, and started dragging George out of the Great Hall and into the hallway.

"W-What are you doing to George?!" Alicia cried out in worry.

"Nothing that can kill him, so don't be so concerned," said Fred, with each word peppered in frustration. "Just going to have some . . . brother-bonding time. . . ."

"We three made a bet, Fred," Alicia said. "That's why he was coming in here like that!"

Fred blinked.

"What kind of bet?"

"If one of us catches you and Hermione snogging somewhere, then the losers have to do their homework for a week," Angelina harshly. "And why did you immobilize him? Didn't you hear him screaming _'I win a bet' _over there?"

Fred sat down in front of them, whispering to them as to not draw any more attention.

"He . . . He sort of . . . walked in on us. . . ." Fred's cheeks reddened.

Alicia gasped, "What?!"

Angelina yowled, "You guys are only teenagers! She's only what? Fourteen? She's too young for that kind of stuff, Fred! How could you do this?!"

Fred launched into mortification, and he growled with more intensity.

"Wait, you thought we were . . . ?"

They nodded.

"We weren't!" he hissed. "We wouldn't do that!_ I_ don't even want to do that! Are you even listening to yourselves?! We were just . . . _almost_ kissing."

Angelina raised an eyebrow.

"_Almost_ kissing, huh?" she said blandly, and turned in her seat to look at George, who was still lying still on the floor. _"Finite Incantatem."_

George, still in a heap, slowly pushed himself back onto his knees, cracking his stiff joints.

"Thanks for that, bro," said George dully.

"You were going to rat Hermione and me out!" Fred said starkly.

"I know, I know! It was a bet I couldn't resist!" George smirked.

"But the bet was that you catch them snogging," Angelina said matter-of-factly. "Fred said _'almost',_ so they weren't _actually_ snogging. So no homework slaves or date for you."

"A date?" asked Fred.

"He asked for a date with me next Hogsmeade trip. Can you believe this guy?" Angelina sighed, though Fred could have sworn she was blushing a little.

George sighed in defeat, and sat down next to his brother.

"I'll make it up to you sometime, pal," he said, clapping Fred on the back. "You can trust Alicia and Angelina can't you?"

"Yeah, of course." Fred smiled weakly as Hermione and Lee walked into the hall. They seemed to be in a heated conversation, the two looking as if they were yelling at each other the entire way.

They sat at their spots at Gryffindor table, but Hermione hesitated to sit next to Fred; she was inching more toward Harry's side rather than him.

"Sit down, Granger," said George. "No one's going to bite you – well. . . ." He glanced over to his twin brother.

Fred shot George a stern look, and then politely said to Hermione, "Just sit down. George is being a real prat today."

Hermione took a few more seconds to think, and she seemed to force herself to take a seat next to him.

"Could you pass me the pork chops please?" she said quietly.

Fred passed the plate of food to her.

"Aw!" George squeaked. "They're already helping each other out!" He opened his arms out wide. "Welcome to the world of Fremione . . .," he added, though he gave a faint glare to his brother.

Catching the look, Fred said harshly, "Can I have a word with you?"

"Nah," said George, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. "I'm fine."

They were bombarded into silence, everyone looking worryingly at each other as Fred and George looked as if they were having a staring contest.

"Well," Angelina said, stretching, "I really am getting full. I think we should better be going. Come on, Alicia."

The girls rose up and headed out of the Great Hall.

"What's wrong with you today?" growled Fred to George once they left.

"Quiet now. You don't want to start something with your new best friend here."

"Best friend?" said Fred in surprise.

George shook his head.

"Never mind – I had my supper already anyway. I'll leave you two to make out in front of everyone, alright?"

Before he rose up, a large bat wing hit George on the side of the head, and before Fred could react, the wing loomed over him and knocked him upside the head as well.

"No running in the halls," Snape said coldly, letting the bat wings that were his cloak sleeves fall to his side. "You two don't want another week with Mr. Filch, do you? I did hear that you two made decent maids."

"No, sir," said George, and he stood up and left, with Lee Jordan trailing behind him.

Snape, huffed, and retreated to the staff table silently.

A moment of silence passed, and Hermione was the first to speak.

"Do you think that maybe –"

"You're having second thoughts about us, aren't you?" said Fred.

"Well . . . I guess so. I mean, I haven't been spending that much time with Harry and Ron anymore. Maybe that's why they've been ignoring me a little. . . . And I think George is –"

"My brother wouldn't be like that, Hermione," said Fred with confidence. "He wouldn't be that big of a prat and push me away."

". . . A – Are you sure?" said Hermione in concern.

Fred thought for a minute, looking down at the table. He finally said with a sigh, "Not really."

"I think you should talk to him," said Hermione, and she got up and moved to where Harry and Ron were eating at, leaving Fred alone.

Hermione was right, yet again. Fred thought nothing could come between him and George, but perhaps one thing could. But why would George be so ignorant to him and not even tell him what was eating away at his mind? Fred thought they could trust each other with their lives! What happened? It ought to be something about Hermione, right? Something about him and her being together. . . . In all honesty, Fred thought, he would gladly give up Hermione to be on good terms with his brother – his best friend – again.

* * *

><p>The Gryffindors returned to their tower for the night. Fred, who was being given the silent treatment by Hermione until he spoke to his twin, went up to his dormitory and found George lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.<p>

"Whatcha doing?" said Fred, shutting the door behind him.

"Thinking," said George.

"About what?" said Fred, and sat down on his own bed.

George sat up and said, "This has been the only year where we haven't been hanging out a lot."

". . . So?" said Fred hesitantly, though he started to feel the reason snowballing right in front of him.

"You've been around Hermione a lot this year," said George gloomily. "I have no one. Angelina has Alicia. Lee's there I guess, but he would rather be around Angelina, I know that. So, I'm left out in the cold."

Fred felt his chest tighten. He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to know that he made his best friend – his brother – his twin – feel miserable and alone. He knew that feeling: When Hermione stopped talking to him. And that was just for about a month. Fred couldn't imagine how George felt for half of the entire semester.

Fred got up and sat beside him, throwing his arm around him.

"George, I'll let you in on a secret," Fred said slowly, letting himself appraise each word that came out of his mouth, as to not let a mean thought slip from his grasp, "I would give up Hermione for you any day. I like her and all, but you have been with me since we were born! Hermione's got nothing on you, mate. No one can outstand you. You're my best friend."

George smiled weakly, but then said softly, "But why didn't you tell me you guys got together?"

Fred took a moment to think before speaking.

"You would be the first person I would tell anything to," he said comfortingly. "You know me better than Mum, even. Of course I trust you with everything I have: My homework, my wand, my life. I would've trusted you with knowing about Hermione and me, but I have to trust myself with the information first."

They stayed there in silence, thinking over what each of them had said. Finally, George spoke with a much more excited voice.

"Oh, now it's turning into one of those depressing Muggle TV soaps! Come on, Fred. I think the girls and I have some bargaining to deal with."

They went back down into the common room to Angelina and Alicia.

"Hello, ladies," George said quaintly. "I think you two still owe me something."

Angelina sighed.

"I already told you this at supper, George. Fred here told us they were almost snogging. The bet was one of us finding them actually doing it!"

"But –" George said desperately.

"Better luck next time," she laughed.

George sighed, and turned to Fred and whispered to him, "Make sure to let me know when you two start getting steamy. I need that date!"

Fred chuckled, "Alright then."

Fred and George were about to return to their dorm when he, Fred, added, "Why do you want to a date with Angelina, anyway?"

George smirked.

"You got a girl, I got mine."


	10. The Second Task

_**Author's Note:** Oh, boy, this story has gone so long without an update. But here it finally is! School's been a pain and taking time away from me to write this story, but I haven't forgotten about it. No beta reader this time, for I've been working and holding onto this for a long time, and some friends have given me advice on the chapter anyways._

* * *

><p>"Boys, would you two kindly do me a favor?" Professor McGonagall told Fred and George in the hallway.<p>

"Certainly, Professor," the twins said.

"I would like you two to go fetch me Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley for me and bring them to my office."

"How come?" Fred said.

McGonagall's mouth twitched, hiding what looked like an amused smile.

"That information is classified," she said forwardly. "Now then, go fetch Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley, if you would."

"Yes, Professor," the twins said, and they darted off across the lengthy corridor.

"Why do you think McGonagall needs Hermione and Ron?" George told Fred.

"I dunno," Fred replied. "Maybe the teachers need extra help finishing the task area."

"Well, I guess that would explain why they need Hermione, but _Ron?"_ said George with a cackle.

"Where do you think they are, though?" said Fred.

George pondered for a moment. "Wherever they are, they'll probably be with Harry."

"You think they'll be in the common room?"

"Nah, we've just been there, _remember?" _George emphasized, giving his brother a mawkish look.

"True." Fred hesitated momentarily. "Maybe they're at the library or something. That sounds like where Hermione would be at least."

* * *

><p>When they entered the library, surely enough, Ron and Hermione were with Harry, the three flipping furiously through book-after-book. They were so deeply engrossed in their frantic search that they didn't even notice Fred and George approach their table stacked high with books.<p>

"Oh, this is no use," Hermione said, snapping shut _Weird Wizarding Dilemmas._ "Who on earth wants to make their nose hair grow into ringlets?"

"I wouldn't mind," said Fred. "Be a talking point, wouldn't it?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked up.

"What're you two doing here?" Ron asked.

"Looking for you," said George. "McGonagall wants you, Ron. And you, Hermione."

"Why?" said Hermione, looking surprised.

"Dunno . . . she was looking a bit grim, though," said Fred, dismissing the actual fact that McGonagall was in-fact ecstatic over whatever was in store for them.

"We're supposed to take you down to her office," said George.

Ron and Hermione looked at Harry with extreme worry before they got up to stand beside the Weasley twins.

"We'll meet you back in the common room," Hermione told Harry. "Bring as many of these books as you can, okay?"

"Right," said Harry uneasily.

Fred and George led Ron and Hermione out of the library and into the corridors, on their way to their Transfiguration teacher's office.

"W – We're not in trouble, are we?" Hermione told Fred anxiously.

"I don't think so," said Fred. "If _you _were in trouble, McGonagall would be _fuming!"_ He then added, "What were you all doing in the library?"

"Helping Harry find a way to beat the second task," Hermione growled indignantly.

"Why so mad at that?"

"He should've started researching how to actually do the task months ago, instead of starting a day before!" Hermione said crossly.

"What is he looking for exactly?" Fred said.

"A way to breathe underwater," Hermione said, her eyes glowing like hot coals.

"Hey, look!" Ron cried, pointing out of a window and toward the lake shore. "What's Viktor Krum doing? It looks like he's trying to hex himself!"

Fred, George, and Hermione looked out the window to peer at Krum muttering words as he flicked his wand through the air; parts of his skin were beginning to turn a rough, grey color.

"Come on, everyone," said Hermione urgently. "L – Let's go to Professor McGonagall's office, shall we?"

Hermione prickled with nervousness. She wouldn't dare look Fred in the eye after that. It wasn't because Ron brought the topic of Viktor up, but because she never told Viktor about her and Fred. She was too uneasy, too scared to follow through and tell such a kind and generous person that she didn't want to be with him anymore.

They finally came to the door of McGonagall's office, and Hermione only needed to knock once for the door to swing open.

"Come inside, you two," McGonagall said to Ron and Hermione, who quickly did as they were told. "Thank you very much, Mr. Weasleys." And she shut the door behind her.

* * *

><p>The Hogwarts lake was disrupted by hundreds of cheering students. The second task was bound to begin at any moment. The three Champions, Fleur, Cedric, and Viktor, were currently at the starting point, their wands gripped at their sides. Everyone around Fred in the stands were wondering where Harry was.<p>

Then, Harry came barreling across the grounds, tripping on rocks and fallen branches. He made his way to the starting position with the other Champions, out of breath and already exhausted.

Ludo Bagman's voice boomed across the dark water toward the stand.

"Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One . . . two . . . _three!'_

The whistle blasted through the cold, still air; the stands erupted with cheers and applause; Harry began taking off his shoes and socks. Laughter exploded from the crowd as he waded into the water and deposited something into his mouth.

"What's he doing?" George said, stifling a cackle.

"If he thinks he's gonna impress the judges doing that, then he's wrong," Fred sniggered, shaking his head.

_But where's Hermione?_ he wondered; she couldn't be found anywhere in the stands.

* * *

><p>Hermione felt herself breaking the surface of the water and being dragged along somewhere. She opened her eyes and noticed a shark pulling her to shore. She shrieked and cried out for help, until she noticed that the shark's torso and legs were that of a man's.<p>

_V – Viktor?_ Hermione thought, shivering.

Once Viktor reached land, he supported Hermione to the judge's table, where Madame Pomfrey wrapped countless amounts of towels around her, Hermione's, freezing-cold and wet body.

"Th – Thank you," Hermione said to Viktor, shivering on the spot.

"All part of ze plan," said Viktor smiling. "Anyvay, I vas vondering if you vould like to come to Bulgaria vith me zis summer."

Hermione's heartbeat stopped for just a second. The moment of truth came sooner than she had thought.

"V – Viktor," she murmured, carefully choosing her words, "I –"

"Oh, vait," said Viktor, and he reached into her hair to pluck out a black beetle in which he flicked out into the wind. "Zere, zat's better."

"Viktor, I –"

She felt arms wrap around her, and when she turned her head around, she noticed it was Fred hugging her with extreme force to the point where she started gasping for air.

"I – I can't believe you were in that lake . . . w – with mermaids!" Fred gasped, holding her even more strongly. "What if you weren't saved? What if the mermaids turned on you? What if the breathing spell on you stopped working? Oh, Hermione, thank god you're safe!"

His grip on her was stronger than ever, and she felt like she could barely breathe.

"F – Fred, you're kind of choking me," Hermione coughed, and Fred quickly pulled his hands away, staring wide–eyed at her, as if he hurt her so severely.

"H – Hermione, I'm so sorry! P – Please forgive me! I – I . . . Oh my god, Hermione, what if I lost you?" Fred pulled her into another hug, and this time, instead of suffocation, Hermione felt warmth, as if her clothes were already dry. But she pulled herself out of the comfort long enough to see Viktor with sadness reflected in his eyes. He gave her a weak smile, and he turned and went over to talk with Cedric.

Hermione couldn't bear what it must feel like to hear that your love chose another person over you and didn't even have the audacity to tell you. Then Hermione thought of the predicament she put Fred in after the First Task. . . . She bit her lip to suppress the whimper of discomfort and guilt growing inside her.

"Mr. Weasley!" Madame Pomfrey hissed, stomping over to them with towels in her hands. "Only champions, victims, and staff are allowed over here! Get back to your seat!"

"Yes, ma'am," said Fred, half-frightened, and speed-walked away to get back to his seat. "Wait a minute – did you just say _victims?"_ But Madame Pomfrey answered with only a strong shove away from Hermione.

_Oh, Fred,_ Hermione thought, shaking her head and laughing. But then she was suddenly overcome with the betrayal and regret that had been cast onto her only moments ago.

* * *

><p>The timer rang – the one-hour deadline was finished. But Harry, Ron, and Fleur's sister, Gabrielle, still hadn't returned. Where were they?<p>

Then, bubbles floated on the surface of the water. Ron and Gabrielle's heads broke through the dark water, and then Harry appeared beside them. They hurriedly swam to shore, and Madame Pomfrey began bombarding Ron and Gabrielle with towel-after-towel.

Fleur dashed toward her sister, flinging her arms around her, whispering words of comfort and apology to the little girl. Hermione raced to Harry and Ron, pulling them into a hug as well.

"What took you two so long?" she said accusingly.

"I don't know," Ron panted, looking over to Harry.

"I – I had to save both of them," Harry explained, out of breath. "Fleur didn't show up."

"Harry, you prat," Ron growled. "You didn't take that song seriously, did you? Dumbledore wouldn't have let any of us drown!"

"The song said –"

"It was only to make sure you got back inside the time limit!" said Ron. "I hope you didn't waste time down there acting the hero!"

Harry was lost in discomfiture, chuckling weakly and glancing at Ron and Hermione.

* * *

><p>The people on the stands were allowed to disperse, but the Champions and the "victims" were told to stay put as a precautionary measure by Madame Pomfrey to make sure everyone was still healthy.<p>

Someone tapped on Hermione's head while she was talking with Harry and Ron.

"I'll see you in the common room, darling," said Fred, and he left the lake shore with George.

"Since when did you guys . . . you know – happen?" Ron said curiously.

"A month ago I guess," said Hermione uneasily. "Why, are you judging me like how you did with Viktor?" she added accusingly.

"No!" Ron quickly said. "Not at all! I mean, I knew it would happen someday. Me and Harry kind of interrogated Fred while we were sharing a room with him and George. We knew that he got a crush on you since the World Cup."

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"And you two didn't bother telling _me?"_ she hissed.

"Well that'd just ruin the fun, won't it?" said Ron. "Back me up here, Harry!"

"I'm not getting into this mess," he said, and clapped Ron on the back. "Good luck, Ron." He walked off.

"_Ron!"_ Hermione jeered.

"Hey, come on! At least I _accept _you and Fred!" said Ron.

Hermione chuckled, got up, and said, "Come on, let's go back inside. It's _freezing _out here!"


End file.
